Green Rain
by Chaotic
Summary: "I may be the One, Morpheus," he said, quite casually, "and that may be my purpose. But Trinity is the reason. My reason. I don't need any other."
1. In Memoriam

After the blast had swept through the ship, I looked about, anxious as to the fate of my surviving crew. I was relieved beyond the power of words to see Neo's eyes open, and him look up at her. I turned my attention to Tank - and when I next looked back across the core they were kissing, with a kind of shared wonder in what they had found.

Their powerful attraction had been apparent to everyone else from the first time they met - Trinity's, indeed, had been the subject of onboard banter even before, when she had insisted on watching those green digits fall, night after endless night - but I don't think they had trusted in its being reciprocal until that point. Neither ever doubted reciprocity from that moment on, and nor could anyone else. Their mutual passion was absolute, and almost frighteningly obvious, until the very last moment we ever saw them alive.

It was unthinkingly just accepted as part of who Neo was. He had brown eyes, he adored Trinity, he was gifted beyond reason. We had all known her before Neo came, and so most marveled at the change. Only I survived to remember a Neo before her - and so only I knew that the greatest change lay there. Thomas Anderson - anxious, awkward, suspicious - was gone forever. The watchful, quiet, unassuming Neo of the real world, so reliant upon Trinity's silent presence by his side, and the commanding, charismatic leader he became within the Matrix, remained in his stead.

He would watch Trinity, until the very last moment I saw them together, always with the same expression, his face still, blank, but his eyes alight, soft, full of an emotion too intense, too powerful, to name - and she would mirror him exactly. Trinity had always been able to mask her feelings with consummate skill, she never let anyone see anything she had no wish for them to see, and Neo did learn from her some semblance of the art - so I could never quite tell if they were simply unable to disguise their passion for each other, or if it was just that neither cared who saw it.

It was remarkable, but they even began to look alike. Both lost weight in those final months of struggle, and the planes of their faces began to stand out in sharp relief, especially with Trinity, who already had so little to lose. She became paler, her eyes huge black smudges, and her skin took on a transparency that looked less than healthy. She reminded me, in fact, of that fifteen year old girl, consumed by the mystery of the Matrix. Now, she was consumed by the mystery of Neo's fate. She knew he would save Zion - I don't think she ever doubted that for a second. Her fears were all for what that might mean, for him. Yet she burned with conviction, and those blue eyes had never looked so alive, so focused, before he came to us.

She was happy, truly happy, and it was only then that the depth of her previous unhappiness struck me. She had never complained, never questioned, had always fought with courage, skill, and determination. She had been well liked by her comrades, her quiet dignity respected, her increasing authority unsullied by arrogance, her readiness to undertake more than her fair share of the tedious, grubby, or grimly dangerous chores admired. Yet she had never wholly engaged with anyone, not since the day she was freed, and it was only watching her with Neo that made me realize it. She was not a reserved, careful person after all - not the still, watchful Trinity we had all believed ourselves to know. She gave herself over to him utterly, without thought of risk or cost. Neo became her life.

I did not know that their time together was to be so very brief. I had harbored hopes and dreams for them that, as far as I know, neither had shared. I saw work for them in Zion after peace came, and a grateful city finally afforded them the fullest possible opportunities for their talents. I imagined children, with her blue eyes or his brown, and the security all Zion children know, from their role as the hope of the city, of our kind. I had always felt that their children would be profoundly blessed. No parents could love one another more intensely, and to be born into such a relationship, be born _of _such a relationship, would be a heritage indeed. I had believed that the future they had risked so much, given so much, to win for us all would also be theirs.

They never discussed the future in my presence. It was as if they knew. And yet, despite that, they were undeniably happy. Theirs was a very real and very human love, it was on all levels - physical and sensual, emotional, not merely spiritual, as some who seek to guard the One's memory have begun to claim. She was his lover, not his disciple. It is vital that that is recorded. They had found great joy in each other, and it was enough for them.

That, in the end, was their secret. Both were brave and capable and loyal individuals. Both would always have served Zion well. But Neo's powers were dependent upon his belief in himself, and that, he drew from her. She believed in him completely, and he trusted in her belief. It meant he could achieve the impossible, because it never occurred to her that he might fail. He was never an arrogant man. He was always dismissive of any suggestion that he should command his own ship - that he should lead us. He preferred to walk one step behind me in public, side by side with her. And that too was typical of Neo. His ability was to him simply a gift, unworthy of pride or comment; he carried it lightly, and it was one he shared with us all. Without the strength he drew from Trinity, that admirable humility might have remained mere self doubt.

I was always circumspect with the knowledge that they would choose the other above all else - including Zion - because I knew that had that been known, the Council would have been forced to separate them. Even their special dispensation couldn't have extended so far. It was, finally, as well for us all that both were willing to die for Zion. Had Trinity been unwilling, and willing to dissuade Neo, she could have done so in an instant, and Zion would have fallen. We are all here today because of Neo - and Trinity. Her part must not be forgotten, in our haste to thank him.

I once saw them on watch, in the core of the ship, before the Matrix feed. It was Neo's watch. Trinity should have been asleep in their cabin, so I approached, nonplussed by this improbable dereliction of duty. But Neo held a finger to his lips, and as I reached them I saw she was asleep on his lap, her face slack and peaceful, her head resting on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined. She had let her hair grow after Neo came, and it had softened her face a great deal. Strands were falling over her eyes as she slept, and without looking away from the screens, he seemed to sense this and had brushed them back with his free hand, gently kissing the top of her head, seemingly unconcerned that I was there to witness it.

"She couldn't sleep," he said, very softly. "She was worried it might affect her watch. So she came to sleep here."

The end had been quite close by then. Less than a month away. It was Neo, not Trinity, who was plagued by nightmares and found sleep elusive. And so I had known that she just needed to be with him - whether awake or not - and I had suddenly appreciated that she was wise in this.

Neo said it. That night in the core, as she lay sleeping in his arms, and he tapped brief instructions into various screens one handed. "I may be the One, Morpheus," he had said, quite casually, "and that may be my purpose. But Trinity is the reason. My reason. I don't need any other."

I had taken over that shift, and sent them both to bed.


	2. Switch

I hated her at first. I can't begin to describe how much I fucking hated her.

When they got me out I screamed and swore and struggled. Tried to cause them some damage, but atrophy isn't kind. Trust me. I wanted to kill the whole fucking world, I'd been fed lies through plugs all my life and now this bunch of lunatics seemed to think that made me part of something. I didn't ask to be a slave, I had a fucking right to freedom, I wasn't about to be grateful for my own damn life and I owed them nothing.

They got me to Zion in double quick time, dumped me. Can't say as I blame them. Then I was shunted off to the Academy. And she was there.

She sat in the mess hall. Tall. Remote. A guy on either side of her. I remember a sharp stab of jealousy. I'd despised the label slut princesses in high school, but she wasn't up her own ass, and she wore the same uniform we did. She stood out, anyway. Serious, but in control. She always looks like that. I envy it, even now.

Dillard called, "Trinity," and she stood and walked over, looked at me.

I refused to ask. I already knew the answer. This bitch, with her evidently accepted place in my new world, was a fucking legend in the old, too. _The _Trinity. I couldn't have begun to guess what she was thinking. I just hoped like hell it wasn't pity.

"Trinity, this is Switch. Can you settle her in, please."

"Sure." And she walked over to the others, letting me trail in her wake like the Ugly Duckling. Metamorphosis not on the agenda.

"This is Ghost. This is Apoc. That's Maggie. He's Sparks. And this is Switch." She turned back to me. "I'll get you something to eat."

Ghost was too busy looking at Trinity to even see me, Sparks wasn't interested, and Maggie was always too goddamn sweet to live, but my eyes met Apoc's. His jaw was set in a line. He'd seen the way I looked at her, he recognized hate when he saw it, and he didn't like it. Or me.

I was vicious to her. But she never seemed to care, or even notice, and that made it worse. I tried to show her up, humiliate her, but she was smarter, faster, just better than me. She beat my ass in the dojo, she hacked with startling originality and finesse, she was able to pilot the Sims for the ships better than anyone else, and only Ghost could better her weaponry skills - and that in the real world, not the Construct. He was a guy. He was stronger. That was all.

She never used her looks. She didn't seem to know she had them. She's disinterested in guys, really. She loves Ghost, they'd been freed on the same day, but she calls him brother. Poor bastard. He wants her any more, and I swear he'd burst into flames. Apoc I'd assumed felt the same way. Most guys did. Even Sparks was entranced by her. Beautiful girls who don't care always have all the guys fascinated, and she wasn't any different. Still isn't.

Sparks had what it took, but he was an evil little fuck even then, annoyed the crap out of me. He's attractive in a clichéd way, and his smart ass comments seemed to entertain her. It mystified me, what she saw in him. Took me a while to realize that it was just because she's so different. She's so sad most of the time; his lightness gave her some relief. He's the only guy she's ever slept with, and I think she relied on his being shallow, on his taking it - taking them - lightly. I think his rage and hurt when she dumped him scared the hell out of her. She'll never say, and I won't ask. Privacy matters to Trinity, and it's the gift we all try to give her.

I gave Sparks a hard time after that, he'd been pathetic and manipulated her, and she hadn't needed it. It fucked her up. I wouldn't admit to anyone else that I liked her by then. But I'd make his life a living hell, any chance I got.

He was Zion born, always whining about being discriminated against when the Academy selected. She defended him, out of guilt, pointed out that all pod borns were automatically placed. "We're needed in the Matrix. But Operators need to be brilliant for us to survive; and they only need one on a ship. All poddies can operate. Operators can't jack in."

I shut that line of defense down by pointing out that we'd taken an aptitude test too. It was called a red pill.

She'd looked at me, and for the first time, something had flickered in her face. But it had gone so fast, I never saw what.

"Whatever. I have to go." She'd walked off. She was graceful in the real world and like a panther in the Construct, even then. And never wasted energy on anything. Particularly argument.

Apoc had turned to me and said conversationally, "You're a bitch. You know that?"

We'd had this conversation several times by then, and I was reasonably sure of my ground. So I was stunned when he said, "I don't know why the fuck you're so sure you aren't as good as Trin. You don't have to be her, Switch. You'd be damn good as you, if you weren't busy being a psycho."

I can never remember what happened after that, my mind went into a searing, white, blinding rage, and I knew I was going to take this guy apart if I died trying. Apoc won't ever tell me exactly what I said. He always says it doesn't matter. I know that it was the kind of stuff most people would never forgive, sick, evil shit that lurks in the more diseased regions of my head, but he ended up fucking me, anyway. Sense into me, maybe. Whatever. I'd never had sex like that before. Strictly speaking, of course, I'd never had sex at all, but in the Matrix, I'd fucked around. A lot, actually. But Apoc knew me. He even seemed to like me. He tried to give me a good time. He succeeded. Several times, if we're counting.

When we finally stopped, I suddenly felt more scared than I ever had in my life, not excluding waking up in a pod, in goo, with a metal spike in my brain. I was lying in bed, naked, the plugs visible all over both of us, sweating - and this guy also lying there was a guy I'd begun to think of as approaching a friend. He was silent, not moving. I was afraid of what would happen, of what he might say to the others, of this being some kind of revenge. So I screamed at him to go, to fuck off, to just get the fuck out of there. He put his arms around me and said, "No. I won't. You're a total nightmare, Switch. But I'm in love with you. And I'm staying. Get used to it."

He told Trinity. I'll never know what he said. But when I next saw her, she looked at me, and said, "I'm glad. For you both."

Which was a lot, from her.

"I'm a bitch," I said. Which was a lot, from me.

I couldn't bring myself to apologize any more. So we went and got wrecked instead. Trin had never drunk before. She threw up. I held her head so she didn't choke, wiped her mouth clean, made her drink plenty of water to stop her dehydrating. Kind of evened things out, I guess.

Trin was allowed out a year early - she'd already learned all they could teach her. Apoc was taken on Morpheus' new crew, his first command. Trinity cut a deal for us. He took her, he got me too. There's a no couples rule on the ships - a no fucking rule, to be precise. Trin arranged for it to be overlooked. She'd never deign to make a deal for herself - she's not like that. She's too direct. But she and Morpheus reached an understanding over me. He wanted her, really, really badly. Most of the captains did, but he'd had his eye on her ever since he got her out, that was common knowledge.

Niobe has her eye on a captaincy of her own, won't join the Neb. Thank shit and all who sail in it. I hate her. She really is what I once thought Trinity was. And Trin shits her up, badly, in turn. Niobe's a stupid bitch. Trin isn't ambitious, she just wants to keep us all alive, and fighting. And she's good at it. She takes more risks than anyone else on the Fleet who's lived to tell the tale, but she's uncanny. She's not ever going to let those bastards kill her. Or us. We know it, and so does Morpheus.

I've no desire to speak to the Oracle, so I don't care that she wants to speak to those two. I think it's hilarious, and they both agree with me. But Morpheus is inquisitive, and she has summoned them, and Trin always does as he asks. So in we go, at nineteen hundred hours oh ten tonight.

I'm still terrified every second we're in, but I have Apoc there, and Trin, and the brothers to Operate. Morpheus seems to kill a newbie every year, which is a better average than most. We aren't newbies, and we'll be fine. Though sadly, that does make that asshole Cypher safe, too. Mr Whatthefuckispersonalspace himself. Poor Trinity. He practically drools when he sees her. His sheets should be laminated.

I'd love for him to be agent meat, but cowards never really catch it. Shame.

I cover his ass anyway. He's human. It's enough.

I've survived four years out now. All three of us have.

It's a sign you'll carry on surviving.


	3. That'll Change Things

"Morpheus." She turned to him and smiled. "Thank you for coming. Please, sit down."

"Oracle."

"Oh, Morpheus, come on then. Let's get it over with, shall we?"

"Over with?"

"You're thinking, I don't believe in this, in her. I don't care what she says. I don't care what she wants. And why am I here, risking my crew for this bullshit, anyway?"

"Yes," he agreed. "I am."

"Problem is, you're also thinking; might I be, after all? Could I have been wrong in abandoning hope of it? Is _that _why she wants to see me?"

He stiffened, and she grinned. "Every truly gifted man that's ever walked in here's wondered that. If they have an ounce more ego than they should."

"Gifted?" he said, uncertainly.

"And that's the part they always focus on, too." She twinkled at him, then took a deep drag on her cigarette.

"What are you saying?"

"Oh, now there's a question. I could ask what you think I'm saying, but things could get a bit too circular then, even for my liking, and Lord knows we've not the time today. So. What am I saying. I suppose I'm saying that there's a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path. You know it, all right. Question is, can you walk it?"

"I presume you already know the answer to that question."

She nodded, her eyes fixed on his. "For the One, it's always going to be the other way around. You're a good soldier, Morpheus. No doubt about it. But it ain't you. The One isn't a self-selecting prophecy. If it were, we'd be overrun."

"There is a One, then?"

"Oh yes. The One's real enough."

"In my lifetime?"

"Very much so. Friendship, that's the key. You'll care for the individual, not just what they can do."

He was silent for a moment, as he processed the implications of this. She smiled. "Yes, that's it, the next question, right there. You're good at this, you know that? Go on. Ask me."

"Trinity," he said. "You're talking about Trinity?"

"Oh, you've wondered since the moment you met her quite what she was made of, haven't you. Silk and steel, that girl. You've done well by her, you should be proud. She's a damn good kid." She stopped, took another drag on her cigarette, exhaled heavily, and then smiled into his intent eyes. "But no. Not Trinity. She's exceptional all right, Morpheus. What she isn't, is unique."

"The One is unique." He sighed, admitting defeat.

"Would they be be the One if they weren't? Thing is, Morpheus, you were right. You pretty well knew it wasn't you; you'd come over these years to see it probably wasn't her either. But it's to do with you both, that's for damn sure. You will find him. You and Trinity."

"The One?"

She nodded.

"And the One will end this war? The Prophecy is true?"

"That there is One with the power to save every human in the Matrix? Oh yes. Yes, that's true."

"And he'll be able to bend the Matrix to his will?"

"He'll see it for what it is, even when inside, once he's ready to. Which amounts to the same thing."

"Why should I believe it? Believe you?"

She shrugged. "That's your choice. Nobody else gonna make it."

"But if I don't believe you, how can I find the One?"

"But if you don't believe in the One, why does it matter?" She cocked her head on one side, smiled at him mockingly, then relented. "C'mon, didn't you already make that choice, years ago? Well, now you can work it out. What really matters to you."

"How do you know all this?" he said. "Me, the One, Trinity - the future. How?"

She took a drag on her cigarette, then indicated vaguely towards the window. "It's my purpose. We all have one. The trick is to find it."

"And mine?"

"To free the One. To guide him. To help him. Poor boy, I can't say I envy _his _purpose. Despite the compensations."

"Compensations?"

She glanced at her watch. "Is Trinity waiting?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm afraid our time is up."

* * *

"Trinity, hello. I'd ask you to sit, but I know you won't. You like standing like that too much. Nice and controlled, isn't it?"

Trinity's mouth was set in a straight line. She said nothing. The Oracle laughed softly.

"Morpheus is going to find the One, you know."

"I don't believe in the One."

"You haven't met him yet. That'll change things."

"If you say so."

"Oh, I _do_."

"Well. Thank you. Are we done?"

"Ain't hardly begun," the Oracle said cheerfully. "He's going to be in his thirties, I give you due warning."

"Coppertops can't be unplugged that old. They die."

"Well, this one won't. Fate has a habit of being unconventional."

Trinity sighed, then controlled herself, and the woman said sympathetically, "oh, I know. Waste of your time, isn't it? And you won't share that information with Morpheus, because it's just crazy talk, right? And that poor newbie - you hate risking them in the Matrix so green, don't you? They get picked off so very quickly. Shard isn't going to live out the week, though, so if I were you, I'd just appreciate the fact that she won't die today."

Trinity glanced at her, and despite the genuine sympathy in the Oracle's face, there was anger in Trinity's that would have surprised her crewmates.

The Oracle smiled. "He was wrong about you, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"You aren't frigid. Or cold. Or stunted in any way. You can love, my God, can you love! There's a great deal of passion in you, Trinity. That young man simply didn't - spark it, shall we say?"

Trinity looked up sharply, as the Oracle went on, "We all make mistakes, you know. I believe Switch once told you you'd slept with yours."

"How did you..."

"Bright girl, Switch. Shame about the self belief."

"Is all this going somewhere?" Trinity said abruptly.

"Bingo! Straight to the point. No bullshit at all. I like that about you. So here's me repaying the favor: you're going to fall in love. Quite desperately in love. You'll love him so much that you'd be willing to die for him. And live for him. That's often harder. This man, Trinity - the man that you'll love - he'll be the One."

Trinity kept the crew out of the Matrix for the succeeding days, without explanation. She put them all on maintenance duties on the Neb. She ignored the complaints and the crew's irritation, and Morpheus backed her up, trusting her, although he didn't understand.

Shard was electrocuted by a faulty connection four days after the trip to the Oracle. She died before Dozer could cut the power supply.


	4. Fate

I look at Shard, and hear my own voice tell the rest of the crew to mend the connection, to inform the other ships, to get word to Zion. I cover her with a blanket with steady hands. And I wonder if she'd have survived the Matrix.

Morpheus is sad, but resigned. He's lost crew to mistake, and that's worse. This is fate, and he thinks that's better.

We're going straight back to Zion. It's protocol, as is the Inquiry. The majority of deaths are Agent related. Sometimes an EMP has to be fired when someone's still jacked in. But simple accident, it's pretty rare. They'll be more thorough here, it's always the way. It's the unforeseen risk that spooks them.

She'd only been free six months. She tried hard, she was a good kid.

Morpheus says neutrally, as if to all of us, that the Gnosis will be home too. It's their scheduled recharge. He means it for me, and he means that Ghost will be there.

But he isn't here now.

I asked Morpheus, when I was talking about joining the Neb, to take Ghost. He'd shaken his head. "I won't be allowed you both, Trinity. Nobody will. It's either or, I'm afraid. And I want you."

"But you just said you'd get Switch. She's good too."

"Switch is excellent. But she's also rather too articulately vocal to be sought after. I admire independence. Most prefer obedience."

She missed Apoc so much it hurt. I saw it in her face every time he left, and the fear would be there until the moment he docked. But Morpheus and I never openly mentioned that factor. Neither of us likes politics. It's one reason I like serving on the Neb. I already knew he'd take her; he isn't a fool.

It's depressing to realize just how many Captains are.

I've always admired their relationship. It's so rare, for people to be better together than they would be apart. Most Fleet women are single, and most of the ones who aren't are hung up on some charismatic asshole.

I've never had the least desire to join them.

That night, I cry. I try to do it quietly, but this is a ship, it's steel, Apoc's cabin is next door. I can often hear them making love, even though they try to be quiet, too.

The Neb echoes. Sometimes, I feel it echoes with the dead of a hundred years. And I wonder how many of them died, like Shard, before they really had the chance to live at all.

I start thinking determinedly of how I can launder my kit in Zion, how good that will be. Then I idly wonder why they chose gray and blue for the uniforms. The color of bruising. They chose blood red for the captains. Tactless, or just apt?

I'm trying to do what I always do when we lose people. Think of practicalities. The mundane. It always works. I never cry. But not tonight. Tonight, I can't stop.

I hear the wheel turn. Switch pads inside.

We always pretend on the Neb that she and Apoc don't actually sleep in the same place, that nothing is between them. And they never come to my cabin door unless they are fetching me for something, and they never, never, come inside.

She gets into the bunk, puts her arms around me, and says, "shhhh. You're keeping us awake, Trinity." She doesn't say anything else, just holds me huddled up against her, and I cry myself to sleep. When I wake up, she's gone, and none of us have mentioned it since.

* * *

Ghost is waiting by the ramp as we disembark. He looks at me and smiles, slowly.

Switch and Apoc walk with us to the elevators, and we pretend we don't know how desperate they are. We get off on the first level we reasonably can, and wander off to the Gardens, Ghost silently giving me what he knows I need. Distant affection.

I walk until I find the Neb's burial site, and stand, looking at the names, until I have it straight. And then I say, "I want to be buried here. Not cremated. You won't forget?"

Ghost looks at me, his face as blank as my own. And he says, "you're not going to die, Trinity."

"Why?"

He is silent for a few moments. Then he says softly, "because I couldn't live without you."

I reach for him, and put my hand on his shoulder, and start to shake. "Ghost..."

He puts his hand over my hand, and looks into my eyes. And I see he's afraid. "The Oracle..." he says. "I heard she wanted to see you."

I can't talk about that. I haven't processed it yet, and anyway, it's too personal. So I look at him, and pull back slightly, and he releases me, smiles.

"We all need our own private domains. You know I respect that. I won't pry. Come on. Lets go find Maggie. You heard?"

"What?"

"Malia was killed," he says bluntly, and grimaces.

"Oh shit,_ no_. How?"

"Seems so. The usual."

"She jinxes them. Does she paint targets on them?"

"That's not kind, Trinity."

"But true."

"She treats the most reckless. It's how she meets them."

"She's treated me. She's treated _you_."

"Which proves my point." He smiles at me, and there's such love in his face. My brother. God knows what I'd do if anything ever happened to him.

"She always wanted to be an OB. You know that?"

"Really?" He's surprised. He never paid much attention to Maggie. He should have. She's always been perfect for him.

"She wanted love, kids, birth, new life. All that stuff. Just thought she owed it to the rest of us to go on the Fleet..."

"Specializing in trauma and contagious disease." He's shaking his head mockingly at me.

"What?"

"Are you ever going to want love, babies, new life, all that stuff?"

I laugh suddenly, without mirth. He looks at me, and flinches.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I just - seem to spend my life killing."

"You don't." He's calm. He's sure. "You don't, Trinity. You protect people. You save them. We all do."


	5. Sparks

Sometimes I want to talk to her about stuff. What I think. How I feel. Really talk, not just the comedy routine. But she's so damn unhappy, and I can make her smile more than anyone else, and I've got to the point where it feels like my responsibility. I'm always so afraid that she's closer to Ghost than she is to me. And that she shares more with him than she's ever going to let on to me, because they're both pod-born, and I'm not. I'm just the joker in the Academy pack. Sparky, the comedian. That's my role. And I don't know how to be anyone else to her.

The first time I slept with her, she was out and out terrified. Which terrified me. I mean, I've seen her saunter through God alone knows what and never lose her poise, yet suddenly there she was. Awkward, and clumsy, and very, very afraid. I've seen her have the jack taken out with her mouth filled with blood, and she'll just jump down, wipe it away, stroll off as if it's nothing. She's gutsier than anyone I know – and prouder. But she was too scared to be able to hide it, and that's unheard of, with her.

My seeing them threw her badly. I've never seen a complete set of poddie plugs before. They're nothing really, a line up her spine, a few on her chest, up her arms. They don't detract. But she went absolutely still, and then I was even more worried. Because fear is one thing; this was vulnerability, which was another, and worse. She didn't want me to see her naked, she still doesn't, much, although she's adjusting to the idea. All in all it wasn't what I wanted for us. For her. I wanted to say: Trinity, they're not who you are. You're beautiful. And brave enough to escape, and they're evidence of that, and you should be proud. I also wanted to say: I love you, I truly fucking do, and I think I have since the minute I first saw your funny, stubborn little face. But it wasn't exactly Romance Moment of the Millennium, with her suddenly all arms and legs and huge gray eyes, and no idea where the hell to put any of them. She's always so poised, she just isn't clumsy. Not at any other time. I can't say: for fuck's sake, who gives? You're still the most beautiful girl in this city. Because it just wouldn't make any difference, she'd still feel the shame.

She lives in her uniform. None of the other Academy girls go to Gatherings in their uniforms, it's not often they get the chance to glam up. It's a bit of a running joke now- that stunning looking girl, she just doesn't give a damn, ironic eyerolls, blahdy blah. And maybe she doesn't, much. But she cares enough to have that RSI. So she cares, in a place where she has no plugs.

Sometimes, she makes small comments that are so freaking hilarious the room will collapse. But it's rare enough, you forget that she can. And I want to make her laugh, to relax, to be that person more often. More, really. I want to make her really let go, to be spontaneous and crazy and just go a little wild, if a lot's out of the question. Make her show emotion for something, anything, even if it isn't for me. She needs that, I know she does. I just don't know how to help her get there. I always, always wonder what she's thinking. I know she has so much pent up inside, you only have to see her spar to get that much, but she never lets it out unless jacked in. She's unbelievably fast. Watching her code would be enough by itself to make any guy crazy about her, it's beautiful. Dances. All the Operators admit to it. She's great to watch.

She ran that jump program for three solid days till she had it cracked. She wasn't that much under the average, calculated per attempt, not by her standards, but it takes most people a fair few weeks of buildup to get there, because that landing – it hurts. She's fearless, always, acts like fear's a luxury and not a survival instinct. Which fucking terrifies me, too. I don't want my girlfriend risk oblivious, not with the life she's going to have to lead once she graduates, gets on the Fleet. I don't want her joining the Neb, either. I want her somewhere boring. The Hammer would do. But she won't listen.

I can't really decode Trinity. Not yet. But I'm trying.

* * *

And in other news, Sparky boy has been dumped on his ass by the Ice Queen herself.

She said she wanted it amicable. So that's nice. Amicable. How sweet. She likes stuff tidy, abhors mess, adores order. I've just been neatly put away.

Fucking bitch.

Ghost was hovering around her with this nauseating pretence at anxiety, when he could hardly keep the smile off of his face, and Switch didn't even try. She just marched up to me, pure venom, and said, "You give her shit like that again and I'll kill you. I mean it. You fuck with her, you die."

"So you know her well enough for her to tell you..."

"You don't get it, do you, Cave Boy. I know you well enough that she doesn't need to say a single fucking word. I can smell an asshole a mile off, and you? I could smell you from the fucking Surface. So whatever stunt you pulled to fry her head, don't even think about a repeat fucking performance. Trust me."

"But you don't even like her. You never have."

"No. I don't. But I fucking hate you. So guess what? You lose."

Switch is insane. Insane, and a severely limited vocabulary. She lives to hate, and I used to get so pissed off that it was mostly aimed at Trinity, even though Trin just shrugged it off.

Well, looks like there's a new sheriff in town. Marvelous. Just fucking marvelous.

I do think I might have gone a bit far.

I said things that meant I knew her better than I thought I did. And definitely better than she thought I did.

I've said sorry. And actually, most of the time, I really am sorry. But she just said "What for?" and smiled briefly. Mask back, perfectly. Trinity the definite. Trinity the aloof.

But I saw her face, the second after I actually said it, and I knew.

Machines made her, and she's ashamed.

* * *

_Sparks said: You treat people like they're just sources. Of affection. Of interest. Of information. You'll never be close to anyone__. You're part machine, Trinity. You'll never be free of it. And you can fuck who you like; it still won't make you human._


	6. The Woman In The Red Dress

I've never been cool. I wasn't at school, and not in Zion, either. I kind of expected never to be taken on the Nebuchadnezzar, because those guys are, they're all just totally cool. Everyone knows it. Some people say they're crazy, the older guys find Morpheus embarrassing, but at the Academy, we know. They're cool.

Morpheus came to see us, when I was leaving. He saw all of us one by one, he had a crew vacancy just come up. He asked what I thought of the Prophecies, and I said I didn't know what I thought, I hadn't ever really thought. Then he asked me, what did I want. I said I wanted to be part of something. And he smiled, and said okay. And I left and assumed that was it. The Neb - they're badasses. They all fight like they love it, not just because they have to. They all have everything top notch. My programming is good, my hacking, and I'm cool with the guns, but I wasn't ever so great with the martial arts. I mean, not that much behind. But a bit. You know. But those guys haven't got gaps. They all do everything.

Then I got called in and told Morpheus wanted me. He'd picked me.

I don't think the others believed it. I know I didn't.

When I started, it wasn't the way I expected. I kind of felt lonely. The brothers were cool, and Cypher was friendly, but I guess the others were pretty busy. Switch scared me. I kind of annoy her. I get on her nerves. Apoc has this habit of saying "shut up Mouse" in a polite voice, and it used to really piss me off. And then one day he wasn't there at mess time, and so he didn't say it, and I didn't shut up. And Switch lost her temper. Trinity looked at her after a while and said, "Switch, leave it," and she did, but it was a bit late. She'd sort of said it by then. So I realized that Apoc was circuit breaking her temper and after that I made sure if Switch was there, and he wasn't, I went somewhere else. And then one day it happened.

You need to get that you can't have couples on ships. It's a rule. So those guys were just friends, that was all. Never anything more. As far as I knew. And you also need to get that the Woman- the Woman in the Red Dress- she isn't a program I ever shared at home. She isn't just anyone. But I was grateful to Apoc, and anyway, I was sick of being treated like a kid, when I can program someone like her. So I offered him to meet her. Spend some time with her. Quality time, if you get what I'm saying.

Switch went mental. I'd never seen anything like it. Apoc couldn't shut her up by talking this time, he tried but she wasn't listening, and then he just kissed her. Like full on kissing, right there. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. When he stopped he was laughing, said to her, "you're still a nightmare," and then instead of chewing him out like I knew she would, she just started to laugh, too.

That was the day I realized the stories were right. This crew really are insane. Loco. The plugs are out, but the code's still falling.

She'd said some stuff that I mind. I mean, I still mind it, even now. It kind of hurt my feelings, to be honest. I didn't cry or anything. I just needed some time. So I went to my cabin. Cypher came to see me. He's such a good guy. He understands what it's like. He said he didn't like Switch either, that he felt kind of sorry for Apoc, that he was pussy whipped. Yeah. We talked some more. Then he told me that he had this girl in Zion, who was married to an asshole who beat her, and that she was his life and a secret and I wasn't to tell anyone. I haven't of course, I mean I never will. Cypher gets real lonely. "To deny our own impulses is to deny what makes us human," he said. "They're hypocrites, remember that."

I felt a bit shy to offer, in case it was pathetic like Switch had said. But when I did, he said he'd be honored. He couldn't have the others know, because Trinity knows his girl, and might tell. She disapproves because this girl is married and would take any chance to split them up. And Trinity might see the program as cheating. She's funny about sex. Old fashioned. Never had a boyfriend, Cypher said. Not ever. Despite being pretty and all. He said she was afraid of life.

I felt a bit superior to her after that, you know, she was pretty naïve, I reckoned. And she was quiet and efficient and the others did what she said because she was First Mate, and she was that because Morpheus has a soft spot for her, like she's his own kid, Cypher said.

So one day I got pissed off when she told me to do a job again, that I hadn't done it right the first time, and I answered back. That she could do it herself if she wasn't damn well happy. She stopped dead, turned, and looked at me. Then she straightened up and walked over slowly, looked me right in the eyes. She looked as if she could drill holes through me with her own. Her jaw set, you could see muscles, and her mouth went level and sort of in this - _line._ And when she spoke, she had a you-fuck-with-me-you-die tone that really, really made me nervous. In fact it sent shivers down my spine, if we're being honest.

"Let me make something very clear," she said. "You are annoying. I overlook that because you can't help it. You're not very good. I overlook that because you're still a kid. Occasionally, I even overlook the fact that you're sloppy and incompetent, because coping with your shit is less effort on my part than getting you to do it properly. But if you ever again go for insubordinate and offensive, you'll find it won't be overlooked by Morpheus, by Zion Fleet Command, or most frighteningly of all, by me. You'll find your ass back in Zion on a permanent basis, and you'll long to be there after I've done with you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said.

She'd nodded, and added over her shoulder on the way out, as an afterthought, "I ever say jump, Mouse? Your only query is the goddamn height."

Since then, I'm most scared of Trinity. It does take a lot to piss her off, but once there - well. You'd rather face a squiddie. Although actually an EMP is kind of a better description of her temper. Disables everything in the blast radius. Doesn't get set off lightly. Lasts.

The first time in, I was freaked out. All the crew are good, all kill quickly and cleanly, bam bam bam and thank you ma'am. But they do it efficiently, professionally. With Trinity, it's some kind of a reflex. It's who she is. They're just scary. She's shit yourself terrifying. She has these weird kicks, back over her head and up in front, she can jump into the air with her hands out like a dancer and kick a guy through a wall. She can have someone hold onto her and kill them by a kick so fast they never see it coming, and she uses people's guns so they commit suicide in her arms.

Most people who are scared of Trinity only stay that way for a maximum of five seconds. They're dead after that.

It's funny. On the Neb, it's Trinity I'm most scared of. In the Matrix, she and Morpheus are the only ones who can make me feel safe.


	7. Green Rain

_Couple of years back, we had our leave overlap with the Neb._

_Their long run of newbie kills was in full flood; this was the fifth death in a year. All the ships lose people, but they just hemorrhaged them._

_We were standing by the Logos, ready to go, Morpheus with Niobe, watching Trinity say goodbye to Ghost. She's not a touchy feely kind of a girl, never was, but we saw her put her arms round him and hug him. He stroked her head quickly, let his hand fall away, and then said something that made her punch him lightly and smile. Then she took his hand and stood there for a minute or so, just looking at the Neb. Her face was blank._

_Niobe had snorted. "That girl can't be as stupid as she makes out. She'd be dead," she'd said._

_Morpheus made a sound that was - almost contemptuous. And Niobe just walked off towards me up the ramp without looking back._

_She got together with Lock, next time we were home._

* * *

"Leave me your hack codes, Switch. You die, I'll never get them."

"You'll feel like shit if she does die, Sparky," Apoc said. He'd got to the point that he was reasonably confident she wouldn't.

"Nah. That's your job. I'd experience a care deficit situation."

Apoc grinned. "Always the charmer." He stood up, and began gathering everyone's tin mugs.

"Not for me." Trinity hastily removed hers. "I've had enough. Going home."

"Never could handle your drinking," said Switch.

"True. That's true. But I haven't had your practice. And I can control my temper. I'd say we're even."

"Bitch fight?" said Sparks. Switch laughed.

"Only if you're volunteering. I'd enjoy that. You and Ballard. Good times."

"Apoc's your bitch. He'd do. I could take him any day."

Trinity groaned. "Do you two always have to do this? Christ. I thought when we actually got out there, we'd all grow up. But no."

"Hey, you can be mature if you like. We aren't stopping you."

"No," she agreed, and stood up. "I really do have to get to bed. I'm on the Dock at seven hundred."

"Oh, c'mon..."

"Seriously, I am. Have to supervise the new pad installations."

"Ah, the perils of favoritism."

"Switch..."

"Oh for fuck's sakes, Trin. You deserve it, think I don't know that? Now piss off before I get sentimental."

"Can you?" asked Sparks, with even greater interest.

"Not around you, Sparky, no. You suck all the sweetness right out of me."

"Definitely Apoc's job." Sparks stood up. "Poor bastard. I'll walk you, Trin."

"I can walk myself."

"Agreed. But I need an escape hatch. Switch needs a victim. So I'll walk you."

Zion was darkened as they left, and quiet. It was midweek, and few ships were docked.

"So," Trinity said after a pause. "How is it?"

"The Logos? Okay. Ghost is as good at trying to die as ever. I'm as good at stopping him. So no worries."

"You still seeing that girl?"

"Zuka? Nah. Didn't work out."

"I'm sorry."

"God, I'm not. Zion girls never have a clue. They always think it's glamorous out there."

"Tell them any different?"

"Fuck no. Whatever works is my motto."

"Right."

"You?"

"Me?"

"Anyone?"

Trinity laughed slightly. "How? I mean, Tank's too young, Dozer's married, Morpheus- well, he's Morpheus. Apoc's Apoc. Mouse- God."

"There's always Cypher..."

"Oh shit. Please don't. Even as a joke."

"Apoc thinks he's okay."

"Apoc would."

"Maybe that's how he handles Switch."

Trinity smiled. "She's all mouth," she said, with evident affection.

"Like me?"

"Oh, but so not in a good way." She turned. They'd reached her level. "Now go away."

Sparks put his arm around her, pulled her into a sideways hug. "I'm glad you didn't get yourself killed this time. But it has to be said. You're costing me a fucking fortune."

"Gambling's a bad habit."

"Nah. The odds keep lengthening. I'll retire on the proceeds when it does happen."

"Lovely. Now piss off, you're getting maudlin."

"Night Trin."

"Night Sparky. You take care of my brother."

"Don't I always?"

"Thankfully. Now leave me in peace. Go on."

* * *

_He's a natural born slacker. But he's somehow managed to become an office drone._

_I think that's why he's not figured it out at the more usual age. He was plugged into the economic system sufficiently securely to stop him asking questions._

_He's a software programmer, so his skills are solid. Solidity - it can be a problem. It makes you more like them, and it's a hard habit to break. Luckily, he thinks more unconventionally than that. He thinks like a hacker. So his knowledge - it's a foundation, not a prison._

_They have his body, but his mind is only on loan._

_He's beginning to want it back._

_He's dark. He's quiet. __He's awkward. He's clumsy. __He knocks into things, if he moves too quickly. He's very untidy, which irritates me, even via a feed. _

_He's lonely, he's cut himself off from people now, he spends his every free moment at a computer. I remember that. He's very unhappy. And I remember that, too. _

_He's kind._

_When I was a child, I used to watch rain fall against the windows at night. It was beautiful, even though it never happened. Sometimes, watching the code fall feels similar. It falls away before you're really ready for it to pass. And then it's gone._

_The code forms patterns, once you know how to read it properly. Some people's code is exquisite. It dances before your eyes, in an endlessly falling torrent of simplicity. Of rightness._

_It's very late. Everyone is sleeping, and I should have got Apoc to take over more than an hour ago._

_What are you thinking, Neo? What do you think is the matter? Are you scared? I think you are. You must be. What explanations are you coming up with? Are they frightening?_

_They won't be frightening enough. I'm so sorry, but they can't be._

_You're beginning to sense that your entire life is a lie. Complete cognitive dissonance. With that sort of burden, insomnia's inevitable._

_I can't sleep, either._

_We've never freed anyone over thirty successfully. They all go into shock. They all die._

_Neo is thirty five._

_"Trinity?"_

_"Morpheus."_

_"I didn't startle you?_

_"No. No, I heard you." He knows I'm not telling the truth. But he doesn't mind. He sits, slowly, next to me, and silently watches the feed._

_We watch for about twenty minutes, and neither of us speaks. We sit and watch the endless fall of green rain. Then Morpheus sighs, and I look at him._

_He is smiling beatifically, he has the look of a man fulfilled._

_"Trinity. He is. I know it. He is the One."_

* * *

"Do you buy this the One crap then?"

"Why?"

"Just wondered. Whether those crappy books actually help in any way whatsoever. Other than intellectual masturbation, to give you the matching set. So- any pearls of wisdom?"

Ghost thought for a moment. Then he said, "I don't think knowledge helps. In fact I think it can be a disadvantage. It clouds your thinking. Locke said, "there is frequently more to be learned from the unexpected questions of a child than the discourses of men, who talk in a road, according to the notions they have borrowed and the prejudices of their education."

"Fuck me," Sparks said blankly. "Deadbolt said that?"

Ghost looked at Sparks, and the sides of his mouth twitched. "John, not Jason. All knowledge is acquired, none innate. Big proponent of the tabula rasa."

"Rosa? For crying out loud. What is it with poddies and their obsession with fucking flowers and fucking food? You people. You need to get a grip."

"You can't understand. You've never seen a flower." Ghost sighed, before admitting, "But then, neither have I."

* * *

_I've never seen such care and resources lavished on a newly freed. Nothing's been stinted, nothing reserved. Everything imaginable that could increase his odds, even by a fraction, has been done._

_But he's still thirty-five._

_We played Russian Roulette, and didn't even warn him the gun was loaded._

_And it doesn't end._

_The guidelines are strict: three hours training a day maximum in the first month. Sometimes, people embrace training just because they're jacked in again. It can destroy the acclimatization. People start to reject reality; become Construct junkies. In some cases it triggers incurable VDTs. In others, people just kill themselves. I've never known Morpheus ignore that before, but he was curious to see what stamina Neo had, and it seems he told Tank to let Neo train as long as he wanted to, just to see how long he'd last._

_Twelve hours straight the first day, including the spar and the jump._

_He failed the jump. And that terrified me. Because if it's a mistake, if Neo's just like the rest of us, then Morpheus couldn't be doing more to kill him if he set out and tried._

_He's so gentle, so accepting. He's been told he's the single most important human being on the planet, and his only reaction is to put it aside and get on with learning how to be in the here and now. He hasn't been broken by it, spoiled by it, spooked by it. He hasn't either rejected or embraced it. He's just filed it away as something to be aware of, deal with in due time._

_I can't begin to imagine being that strong._

_Watching him sleep, I wanted to stroke his face so much I had to cross my arms. I just wanted to reassure him. That he wasn't alone, that he could do this, that we'd back him up, that everything would be okay._

_That's such crap._

_I just wanted to touch him._

_He's very, very bright. People don't recognize it because they've not read the files carefully enough, and most wouldn't know what they'd seen if they had. It's not what he's done: it's how. Subtle. Lucid. Perfectionist. And that stripped down, elegant style says more than any showily obvious achievements ever could. He instinctively focuses on what matters, lets the irrelevant fall away, and knows which is which. So clean. It's vanishingly rare. And unerringly indicative. It's the essence of someone gifted._

_People keep asking me, do I agree. Is Morpheus right. Is he the One. And I always evade, and defend, and avoid. I never answer._

_And the truth is, I don't know._

_And the other truth is, I want him to be._


	8. Savior Child

"Fucking gorgeous," said Switch. "Or will be, with more hair."

"Who?" Trinity filled a mug with water, sat down.

"We have more than one baldie round here?"

"Yeah." Trinity said. "Three, in fact."

"Oh, hilarious."

"Thank you. I thought so."

"I mean the Savior Child. Genuinely fucking beautiful. My advice, Trinity? Nail him while he's good and fresh, before he gets to Zion and the attention spoils him. Damn, if I were free I'd jump him myself."

"Hello?" said Apoc drily. "Remember me?"

"Yeah, and I just said I'd have to pass! What more d'you want? Blood? That boy's so off-the-goddamn-charts adorable it's like a movie star inserted his DNA into a Labrador puppy."

Apoc raised an eyebrow. "Now that's just kinky. Not to mention illegal. Any movie star in mind?"

"Careful. That's how rumors start."

"You started many?"

"Yep. Ask Richard Gere."

"God," said Trinity. "That was _you_?"

"And you thought the IRS was cool, huh? We all have our talents."

"You scare me sometimes, you know that?"

"I know you need to get laid. How long's it been, Trin?"

"What I _need,_ is a new pad on the fourth port quadrant. It's not firing right. Again." She grimaced. "It never ends."

"All work and no play..."

"Keeps us the fuck alive?"

Switch looked at her for a moment, then brought her mug up, hid a smile. "So. You don't think he's pretty?"

"Who, Neo?" Trinity said, and shrugged, the picture of disinterest. "Can't really say I've noticed."

* * *

_She's right, of course. Both counts. I couldn't be more aware of the man, and he really, really is. Beautiful is the only word. His bone structure, his extraordinary eyes, just the way he moves. His very awkwardness is endearing, it's the apologetic movement of a guy who doesn't know he's devastating. I used to wonder how someone who lived as he did had so many women falling over him, but once I met him, I knew. I knew absolutely. And I'm pathetically pleased that he was so completely oblivious to it; that he isn't the player he had opportunity to be._

_I hardly know him, but I've never found anyone so easy to be with. He never makes me feel boxed in. He's so unassuming, never invades my space, but this morning I tripped slightly going down the ladder, Mouse had spilled some crap or other, and before I knew it his hand was on my arm. Steadying me. And suddenly I couldn't breathe._

_I didn't even know he was there. Didn't know he had such good reflexes, either._

_I'm not good at reading people. It's a problem, in this work. It's the one area I am close to disastrous. But with Neo, it's different. I don't know why. Maybe because we're alike. But I instinctively understand him, to the point it surprises me when the others can't. It seems so obvious. So easy, to read him. But it isn't easy, not to everyone else. Just me._

_It's strange, how exhilarating that is._

_

* * *

_

"Hey."

She looks up. She must have been surprised – she'd evidently been miles away – but he can't discern any evidence of it. She as as calm, clear-eyed as ever.

"Neo."

"I'm sorry, I'll go..."

"No. No, I'm just surprised you're awake. That's all. Sit down." She stands, walks over to the counter. He can hear her pour something, and then she hands him a mug. "Here. It's only water, but at least it's hot. Cold wake you? There are more blankets if you need them."

He shakes his head as he takes the drink. "Thanks."

"Can't sleep?"

He takes a sip, shakes his head again. "You can't sleep either," he says. It is a statement, not a question.

She looks at him, waits for the inevitable inquiry, but it doesn't come.

"How old were you?" he says instead.

"When I was freed?"

"No. The IRS."

"Ah," she says. "I was fifteen."

"Christ." His eyes widen as he processes this. "When I was that age... God. I wasn't doing shit like that."

"It wasn't as hard as you'd expect." The tone is automatic.

"Sure. That's why nobody else's ever managed it."

She looks up at him then, and smiles, shrugs slightly. "Well, I had motive. Amazing what you can do when you're desperate. Anyway, a lot manage it once they're out. Just doesn't get advertised, that's all."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The Academy – that's where Zion trains us – hacking's core curriculum."

He is silent for a while, and then he says, "What motive?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you were desperate. That was the motivation."

"Oh." She pauses, and then she says, "I had to find Morpheus."

"He didn't look for you?"

She shakes her head. "They only picked me up after I did the IRS. Right after, actually. It's how I survived."

"The machines know it was you?"

She nods. "They know exactly who I am."

"Why do they not say, then? On the most wanted lists? Everyone's looking for a guy."

"They don't want potential targets knowing. They might look for me, as well as for Morpheus. Women might look for me instead, actually. Publicizing his face backfired. It was a screw up - they don't plan on a second. Especially as I'm the one making all initial approaches now."

"Oh," he says. "Right." He fidgets with a loose thread at the edge of one sleeve. "So... you approach all the targets."

"Sure. I'm First Mate. It's part of the job."

"So that white rabbit thing – the club – it's standard operating procedure?"

"Oh, that," she says. "No. No, I'd never done that before."

"You hadn't?" His eyes meet hers.

"No," she says. Her tone is crisp. "Every initial contact is different – safer that way."

The eyes fall again. "Right. So, fifteen. You went to the... Academy?"

She nods. "Yeah. We all did. Except Cypher, he was too old when he was freed. Rest of us, yeah."

"You went with Switch?"

"Uh huh."

"Was she... the same? Back then?"

She smiles suddenly, amused. "Oh, yeah. She's what you might call consistent. Always was."

"Right," he says, uncertain. She looks at him.

"You'll find she grows on you."

Her voice is as even as ever, but he suddenly appreciates that the women are close, almost wordless as their interaction around him has been. It reassures him, that Trinity can feel that much for someone. He wants to be this woman's friend; in this moment he suddenly wants it as much as he's ever wanted anything. He's never met anyone quite like her; he's an introvert, his preference has always been for solitude. But being with her, with that calm stillness, is somehow even more restorative. Perhaps he's just losing it. Perhaps he's just afraid he'll go crazy here if left alone too often. But he doesn't think so. When he talks to her, everything suddenly crystallizes into meaning. When he watches her – that efficient grace, that tranquil poise – he can believe that freedom is everything he hoped for.

He believes in her, he realizes. Whatever else is confusing, she isn't. Stranger she may be, but she makes sense to him.

"She's with Apoc, right?" he says, realizing he's been silent. Staring at her. He's afraid she'll leave.

"Yeah," she says. "Has been a decade, now. But we never mention it. There's a kind of don't ask, don't tell with ship relationships. It's just how it is. So they can shuffle people apart if it gets messy. Officially they ban couples, so they can do that. So it'd be, um, a kind of _faux pas_..."

"Got you."

She looks at him. "I didn't need to, did I. You won't go there."

"I don't like to... I don't know."

"Invade people's space? Yeah. I noticed."

He is seized by a sudden anxiety that she is subtly critical; that she, like so many women he's known, really means _you never give a fuck about anyone but yourself_. But looking up, he finds her eyes locked on his own, clear, unguarded, and there is unqualified approval in them.

"You don't either," he says suddenly, realizing how true that is. "That's how you know."

She shrugs, but it is not a dismissive gesture. It's an acknowledgement.

"It's why you're so restful to be around," he says, as if stumbling on a piece of a jigsaw. The answer to something he's been puzzling at. "No demands."

As soon as the words leave his mouth he could kick himself, for a myriad of reasons. He isn't sure what sounds worse – his seemingly preferring women to be undemanding, or sounding like he's trying to pay her some greasily insincere compliment. This is _the_ Trinity, and he just described her as undemanding. And he's fully aware of just how demanding she can be. He's sparred with her now, and she went far harder on him than Morpheus. He has the bruises to prove it. But looking at her, she seems unruffled. She takes another sip of her drink. Then she clears her throat, and for the first time, he can see her struggling with something.

"Same," she says at last. Her voice is still even, but it's almost inaudible, too. "You, I mean."

Their eyes meet, and lock. There is absolute silence. Later, each will wonder if they remembered to breathe.

"Hey," a voice says, shattering the moment. They startle, and look anywhere but at each other.

"Cypher," Trinity says briskly, and rises. "Am I on?"

Cypher looks at her, and then at Neo.

"Trin, you were on fifteen minutes ago. I should be asleep. Guess Neo's quite the conversationalist, huh?" He drops a hand on Neo's shoulder. "Trinity," he says in his ear, his tone confiding, "is _never _late. For anything."

* * *

The first thing he knew was her voice screaming _**now**! - _and then her hair against his face as she flung herself across him. Then a rush of energy seared viciously through his cranial jack like a sudden, agonizingly explosive migraine.

_Jesus. That's worse than the bullets. _

He felt her flinch, rigid, and realized her own jack had taken the full impact, exposed, as she shielded him from the worst of it with her own body.

When he opened his eyes he was looking out at blackness, every light extinguished, the only illumination from leaping flames in the devastated core. But he could see her face by that firelight, a face shell-shocked and vulnerable as she looked into his eyes. And he realized that she was, finally, afraid. Afraid that he wouldn't know what she'd told him, and afraid that he would.

He ran his hand along her arm, up to the delicate slope of her shoulders, as he'd been wanting to do for days, finally bringing his palm to rest on the nape of her neck. Then he lifted his head, pulled her down to him, and kissed her.

Three weeks earlier, he'd woken to a world of war and hell and loss and fear, with only freedom and friendship to warm a bleak, unbelievable truth. Now he was reborn again, and this time, into love. He'd heard her voice in there as clearly as if she'd been standing next to him, and it was suddenly natural that he'd heard her, natural that he'd defied death just to return to her, and natural that they should kiss. His tongue was suddenly fluent in a language he'd always thought unreachably foreign, the texture of her skin and the taste of her mouth all he knew, until she abruptly broke away.

"_Goddamnit_."

"Trinity? What's... what is it?"

She bit her lip, then said gently, "The EMP killed all systems. Can't run any scans. But don't worry. I know what to do."

"Trinity..." he tried to pull her back into his arms, but she moved back, shook her head. She'd reverted to the coolly efficient soldier of the Matrix.

"No. Neo, you must take this seriously. Open your mouth and lie back."

"_Huh_?"

"I need to know if you're bleeding orally. It can be an indication of internal injury."

He blinked. "You've definitely examined my mouth, Trinity."

Her face briefly warmed into a smile, but then she nodded briskly, began tapping her way down his chest with precise, delicate fingertips. "Does this hurt?" she said, her voice even and controlled.

"No. Just bruising."

"This?"

"No. Trinity, it's fine." He tried to pull her back into another kiss, dismayed as she once again sidestepped out of his arms, and then he looked down and saw the sentinel, lying impotent at her feet. Talons outstretched, mere inches away.

"Oh Jesus _Christ._"

"It's okay, it's dead. Scrap metal."

"But it could've killed you!"

She shrugged. "It didn't."

"But it could have," he said, staring at the thing, at its horrifying proximity. He suddenly realized exactly why she'd flung herself across him, and, not for the first time, he was humbled by the totality of her courage. Agents, sentinels, death itself, she shrugged her slender shoulders at them all as they fell, wholly defeated. Making them, perhaps, not so very different to himself.

_So you see, you can't be dead. You can't be, because I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. __Now get up._

He had the suspicion that he'd always do anything she asked of him. Anything at all, no questions, no hesitations.

_Let me tell you what I believe. _

But looking at her, he also had the suspicion that she wouldn't ask. Not unless it was something vital. Conquering death. Ending the war. Loving her.

_I believe you are going to need my help._

"Trinity..."

"Neo, you're shaking." She cupped her palm over his forehead.

"I'm just cold."

"No. You're in shock." She pulled away, angry with herself. "God, of course you're in shock. Wait here."

"No! No, stay. Please. Trinity..."

"I'll be back in a second."

She ran to the cabins, grabbed as many blankets as she could find, returned to the core and cocooned Neo in them, with swift, capable hands.

"There'll be a rescue ship soon," she said gently. "We sent an SOS before we blew it. Don't worry."

Neo put his hands out, took hers. "Trinity..."

"It's alright," she said soothingly, "It's all going to be alright. Don't be afraid, Neo."

"I'm not afraid," he said. "I just need you here. That's all."


	9. The Sky Is Falling

I don't even want to think about what losing them must feel like to her, not yet. When we heard, we were not good with it. You could say we felt we'd had our guts ripped out with our sporks, in fact. But we weren't there. Trinity was. Sweet holy crap, poor Trinity was.

Switch. White blonde, acid tongued, angry. But loyal as fuck. She was a damn good girl, under the malice. And she was good at her job, too. Risk averse. Trinity's better, but she's risk oblivious.

I always expected to hear this about Trinity. Not the other two.

"Leave me your hack codes, Switch. You die, I'll never get them." Last time I saw her.

"You'll feel like shit if she does die, Sparky." Apoc had said. He'd gotten to the point that he was reasonably confident she wouldn't.

"Nah. That's your job. I'd experience a care deficit situation."

He'd laughed, and looked at her, grinning. She'd just smiled back at him, amused by his amusement. Those two were a weird couple- he was quiet, placid, easy going, she was pure vitriol- but it worked. Right from day one.

We always joke about the poddies dying. It makes it less likely.

Only it doesn't.

I'm lucky. Short of a squiddie, I'm safe. So I lead a charmed life. I just have to watch them getting the shit kicked out of them, and know that if I fuck up, even in a tiny way, even on a single occasion, they go back to Zion under a blanket, and I'll have that thought to keep me warm in future, on those icy sewer nights.

Sometimes I look at Niobe and Ghost, and I try to imagine what it would feel like. It's different on a big ship, with a less familiar crew, and it was bad enough even then. I can't know. And I'm uncomfortable knowing Trinity can.

Like I say, I have it easy.

Nobody seems to know what the fuck went wrong, how they all got wiped out, how Trinity alone made it out alive, when she always sent the others back first. The story we've had filter back is incoherent, makes zero sense. It involves Agents and squiddies and a newbie who's fucking well thirty five, and an EMP blast after a squiddie attack that nobody died in. In which case, why is an Operator down? How the fuck did Dozer die? Why is Tank so badly injured? The Hammer has taken five days to get the Neb patched up and the survivors back, and the gossip is running wild. Morpheus is rumored to have VDTs, to be claiming this new guy is the One. Thing is, another rumor has Morpheus being rescued from the loving custody of several Agents by Trin plus newbie, and yet another has Trinity in love with aforementioned Grandpa Pod, which to those of us who actually know her, sounds about as likely as his being the One.

As I say, the whole thing is bullshit ridden.

I'm ashamed, because I don't really want us to find Trinity. I don't know what to say. She's very intense, everyone can always see that there's plenty going on under that dark hair, but equally nobody has a frigging clue what it might be. She's always been beyond me, and I don't think anyone really understands her. Ghost likes to think he does, because it puts a pretty shiny polish on the fact he'd love to fuck her. I told him once that she wasn't really worth the effort in that department- he should take it from me, I was the only guy who was ever gonna find out- and he just didn't speak to me for a week unless it was work related. You have to be on a ship to get how pissed that made him. Not just because it's a confined space. I'm his Operator. Most people really do want a good working relationship with one of those. In fact, you could say it's a priority.

But when we get up there, we see something really weird. The Hammer went to get them, and it's already landing, with a crippled Nebuchadnezzar, patched up, jerkily following- but there's an infantry presence, and it looks like they're not letting us anywhere near.

The ramps descend, and I can see the covered bodies being taken from the Neb. Morpheus and Roland are next, and they are met by the military staff and accompanied away. Finally, we see the Hammerites leave. Maggie first, with a stretcher that looks like it's Tank; then the full crew- and bringing up the rear, Trinity. She's walking with her usual sure steps, but the guy next to her, the only one I don't know, is a baldy poddie who hasn't been out more than a month. If that.

He has brown eyes, he's tall, he moves with a kind of gentle clumsiness and he has a sort of innocence about him. And it's true, he is old. Fucking old. Thirty, at a guess. Trinity stops to say something to him, and he turns, and gives her the smile I've seen so many guys give her, the one that says "I want to screw your brains out and call it sacred." And she smiles at him, too, and suddenly my guts are dropping a mile. Because she's looking right back at him with those icy blue eyes suddenly huge and glowing. And they're repeating the exact same message.

The sky is frigging well falling.

* * *

I go and find Ghost, and he smiles when he sees me, doesn't look at my face. "She's here?" he says at once, grabbing for his sweater. "That's early." He's pleased.

Poor bastard.

I don't know how to say it, so I don't, I just say, "Saw her dock, ten minutes ago," and he's already hurrying to the elevators, I have to go chasing after him.

"Ghost..." I say, awkward, not wanting to, and tail off, and he stops, and suddenly his whole body relaxes.

Ghost is weird. I mean, pretty much off the scale. He relaxes with terror. I swear to you, I've seen it enough times. Right now he's shitting himself that she's come back in more than one piece. I say hastily, "No, no she's fine, fine, looks good!" and he turns, looks a question at me.

"There's a new guy," I say. "I think she's settling him in. She won't be at her place yet, she'll need to get a room for him sorted with A & S. Morpheus is with Roland, they sent troops for them, the Council must want telling about the incident. Why don't you come see the Hammerites? They can tell us what the deal is," and he slowly turns, before nodding and heading with me for the Fleet Mess hall.

Someone's going to have to tell him.

That someone sure as fuck isn't me.

When we get to the mess we find a great knot of Fleet personnel crowded around a single table. The table is big, but this news dwarfs it.

Cypher murdered them.

That causes a collective shudder. It's a given that they rely on each other; liking isn't an issue. They take bullets for people they hate, it's the deal. To kill a free person is unheard of on the Fleet. There's no point, Agents do it for you fast enough. Keeping each other alive is a prayer for their own survival, the only charm they have.

Trinity. She and this guy did go in. It's true. AK saw the whole goddamn thing, they were monitoring the situation, expecting Morpheus to be unplugged, getting ready to go to the Neb's aid. They knew Trinity was with nobody but a newbie, Cypher, and the brothers, and Roland had decided she was out of her depth, needed rescuing.

Jesus. I don't think that's something anyone will ever say of her again.

Morpheus was held by Agents, getting his brain hacked. The unplugging was awaited. Then Trinity abruptly appeared on the Hammer's feed, walking into the building with only a total newbie to help her, and the Hammer's crew promptly had several collective heart attacks. Trinity, so cool, so controlled. Logic in human form. Suddenly insane. They decided the grief had unhinged her, that she was bent on suicide. It was awful, AK said, watching this girl walk calmly towards her death when you'd watched her run from it so many times, so wonderfully, improbably successful. It can get frigging boring on watch, and all the Operators monitor certain people for the sheer hell of it. Trinity's one of them. Graceful. Lethal. An original. AK said they could hardly bear to watch, but nobody could bear not to, either. The whole ship just gathered around the screens, staring. Waiting for the inevitable.

This new guy - he went with her. One week's training behind him, and he acted like they'd both been in the Academy with us. A unit, AK said dazedly. Double act. Blowing the building apart as if they were born to it. Tag teaming one another with Agents, for chrissakes. As if they'd known one another forever, and could predict the moves before they materialized. Instinctive shadowing.

He dodged bullets. Like an Agent. This new guy goddamn dodged them.

They rescued Morpheus with a chopper. It began to crash, Trinity still in it. She was on one end of a rope, halfway down a skyscraper. This guy grabbed the other end, then hauled her up to the roof. Bare hands. Then he got the other two out.

An Agent shot the phone as Trinity left. This Neo was stuck without an exit.

Hand to hand fucking combat with an Agent. And he won.

"That's impossible," I hear myself say. They glance at me.

"Yeah," Mauser agrees flatly. "It is. Of course it is. But we all saw it."

"We saw more than that," says AK.

_"More?"_ I say. I glance at Ghost. He's standing, expressionless, watching AK.

"Three Agents. Three of them. One of them shot Neo at point blank range. Repeatedly. In the chest. He died."

"No he didn't." I'm confused. "I just saw him, he came off the Hammer."

"He died," AK says flatly. "We all saw it. And Maggie's retrieved his data. His heart stopped. Dead."

"But..."

"He came back to life. He deleted an Agent. Then he got out. They were under squiddie attack. Trashed the place, they'd had to wait on the EMP until Neo was out, and calamari were in the core by then."

Silence. Then -

"Don't you fuck with me, AK," Ballard says roughly. "Come on now!"

"He's not," Roland says, his voice reluctant. Nobody even noticed him come in. "I saw it too. It happened."

"How?"

"Morpheus thinks he is the One," Maggie says.

A general silence. Then Ghost. "What does Trinity think?"

Maggie looks at him, serious, direct. Maggie always cared about Ghost, and it looks like she's going to have more balls than the rest of us put together. "She thinks so, too."

"She would," Roland says.

"Why?" says Ballard. "I mean come on, everyone knows Morpheus is goddamn certifiable, but she's always been smart enough for three. Why's she believing that crap? She's never been religious."

"They're together." Roland again. Authoritative. "Her and this Neo. Were when we picked them up, apparently. I'd say that makes her an unreliable witness."

"In-fucking-separable." Mauser sighs. "Lucky bastard."

"You're shitting us," says Ballard incredulously. "Trinity doesn't do guys! Or girls, that I know of. She's like Ghost. I'd assumed it was their goddamned horoscope."

I can't look at Ghost. I'd rather see him in the Matrix than here, right now.

"It won't last," Roland says. "Classic unplugged transference on his part, grief on hers. And she's far too smart for him. She'll be bored in a month. He's a miracle in the Matrix, but outside... personality free zone. He's also what you could call intellectually challenged. Makes for an interesting personality mix. If Morpheus is right, we have one stupid savior on our hands."

"I don't know," says Maggie. "He seems sharp enough to me. And he's a nice guy. Gentle with her. She's lost a lot."

"They seem to like each other okay." I can see AK avoiding Ghost's eyes. AK knows about that one. Which means he's playing it down. She's crazy about the guy, I saw it in her face.

"It won't last," Roland repeats. He shakes his head.

"Trinity's smart," Ghost's voice is even. "And if she believes in him, then that isn't likely to be based on nothing. Nor is her caring about him."

"It isn't based on nothing," Roland says irritably. He's not used to anyone disagreeing with him. He's one of the old school. "We told you. It's inexplicable, what he can do. But he's old, he's thirty five."

Another sharply indrawn breath audible, from several pairs of lungs.

"Maybe that's why he can do what he can," Roland continues. "Maybe it's a function of his age. Nobody knows, we've never freed anyone that old before."

Ghost turns to go. But before he leaves, he looks at Roland; level, calm.

"It seems to me that Trinity currently has more information than anyone else. So I will accept her judgment until I am in a position to make my own. And if all the information we have is still indicative of his being the One, than I will believe that, too. Cynicism and intelligence are not synonyms."

"He can fly," Maggie says suddenly. She looks up at the faces around her. "We've seen it. He can_ fly._"


	10. Maggie

You have to understand - I've known her all my free life. We all have. And Trinity didn't do love, or passion, or anything so personal. Oh, she did friendship all right. Always on her terms, like a cat, but she did it. And actually, I was pretty sure that Switch was wrong. Trinity's very keen on privacy - no, scratch that, more like obsessive - so I was fairly sure that her sex life was simply quietly kept apart from all of us. We wouldn't ever be getting breathless updates, but it didn't mean that no material for any existed. I always admired that; she was adult about that stuff, even as a kid. She never fanned the flames of the various dramas in the Academy. Her great passions were essentially impersonal - the greater good, the future. Love on that scale just wasn't something I ever saw her as even being capable of. She always seemed too remote.

People ask me sometimes what she's like, she's a real name now on the Fleet. People used to think she was hung up on Morpheus and that's why she didn't want to captain her own ship. And now that that explanation's died, people just can't fathom her at all. I usually openly admit to being one of them.

Which is less true than it used to be.

I just wanted to be a doctor, always. And facility with figures and science led me to computers. But my expertise was very limited, the Academy showed me quite how limited. Everyone else was streets ahead of me. I think that they simply wanted a poddie medic, someone who could treat serious RSI injuries, get them to an exit in one piece, so they looked for a kid with that career ambition who could hack well enough to be guided out. I'm so, so grateful they did; I certainly hadn't been happy. And I wasn't really made to jump through the hoops the rest were, to gain freedom. I was straightforwardly led there. It was offered to me without my having really done much to deserve it. It means a lot. I want to repay it.

The Academy was okay, really. I was scared shitless then, I was very shy at that age. Ghost was really nice, always, and I developed a killer crush on AK, four years above and about to head out. Even Sparks was pretty good to me, I know his reputation but he was always very gentle, never started. They were all good people, but the various emotional entanglements lead to a fair few ructions. Coop a bunch of bright kids up in a confined space with inadequate supervision, and it'll always be interesting. It was certainly that.

Apoc was the nicest of all. Gentle, easy going, warm. My first night there, he sat in the mess hall with me till past five hundred hours, just chatting about whatever I wanted. He did that a lot with the new kids. He knew how it felt, and he tried to help. He was just the loveliest man I'd ever met, he hadn't an unkind or a vindictive bone in his body. I had a crush on him, too, and Switch as well when she turned up, once she and Apoc got together I wasn't sure which one of them I was more in love with. I wasn't discriminatory, I was fifteen years old, hormones fizzing. I just adored them both. I got mad with Switch sometimes - she could be a total bitch, even I saw that, and some poor new kid was too slow at getting dinner one day and Switch started on her - but when I tried to intervene, she just turned and said, "Maggie, don't make me be a bitch to you. I fucking hate guilt. Now piss off." I was so angry - but I did piss off. I never could stand up to any of them, then, I was too in awe.

Trinity was okay. I never really got much from her, she was always so guarded, but she wasn't ever mean. She doesn't do petty. If she ever truly disliked you, you'd really have grounds to panic, but I don't think she dislikes many. She's just very calm, measured, was weirdly so as a kid. She was the focal point of our friendship group, because both Sparky and Ghost were obsessed with her, and Switch was so desperate for her approval, but Jue was the one most of the Academy guys were really after. Trinity was more the one they all wanted to beat.

Jue was gifted, rather than prodigal, didn't care as much, didn't have the self discipline. But so fast and graceful. She was passionate about everything, fiery, whereas Trinity was brilliantly, coolly dedicated. Oh, Jue was better at acrobatics, just as Ghost was weaponry, but Trinity left her for dust in every other subject. Jue could care. She had a lot of fun, even back then. She always managed to look better dressed than anyone else, she had that knack, and she had a series of boyfriends who never quite got over her, before Thadeus. She was very feminine, sensual. Warm.

Trinity, Ghost and I had classes in normal Zion schools as well as the Academy, because I was still set on medicine, and Dillard thought they needed stretching. So we got a standard education as well as a Fleet preparatory one. She helped me when I got stuck, but I never felt a flicker of any real friendship from her. She reserved that for the guys, and then Switch managed to crash past those barriers when she got together with Apoc. She used to say the most appalling things to Trinity, really challenge her, she was unique there, we'd just gape in shock, but incredibly, Trinity took it. She certainly didn't take it from anyone else.

After the training we were sent out. I joined the Gnosis with Ghost; I wasn't a medic, they just wanted to get me used to the Matrix so when I went back to finish training I'd have a clear idea of the demands. They like to get the newbies out at eighteen, toughen them up.

My first time in it was a joint venture with the Neb. I was lucky. I was teamed with Ghost and Trinity to guard the hardline. If it had been any other pair of newbies, we'd all be dead. Because a SWAT team descended - and I just couldn't do it. They were people. They had faces. Families. Bodies that were working, even if they were in a pod somewhere. Hopes, dreams, ambitions, maybe kids. They weren't simulations. They were real.

Ghost and Trinity just took over. They annihilated them so fast there wasn't any time for Agents to appear, covering me throughout the thirty seconds it took, then they got onto the Operator, another exit sorted for the others. Then got out. Textbook stuff, very clean. It was their first commendation, actually.

Trinity wouldn't look at me through the whole thing. I felt so ashamed. Weak, a coward. Because nobody likes to kill, it just has to be done, or we'd never free anyone. And I'd let other people do it, my dirty work, face it for me. And I also realized that I'd let the Fleet down. The Resistance. Irretrievably. Because my not being able to kill suddenly made me a total liability inside. I'd always need guarding, and that just isn't realistic. So their carefully found poddie medic might as well have been a Zion born. I couldn't be trusted in there, so couldn't treat any RSI injuries, so was useless. Total failure, after they'd saved me.

I was beyond devastated. It happens occasionally, that someone can't kill, and they always get assigned a job in Zion. It's not meant to be shameful, but it is. And when I next saw her, Trinity was just - icy. So cold that it burned. I was so miserable. I was having my medical training in the Infirmary then, they'd decided to make me a standard medic, let me specialize as I chose, obviously I was going for military med. Six months in, Trinity was injured, sent back, and they assigned her to my care, thought it would be nice for us.

It was hell.

* * *

_When they told me she'd been hurt, badly, I thought I would be sick. It took every ounce of discipline I had to listen attentively to Ice, thank her, and walk to my cabin, so I could lie on my cot and shake in peace._

_Trinity. Injured. So badly, that getting to an exit at all had been a desperate struggle. Injured so severely that it necessitated the Neb's immediate return to Zion, to full service medical care._

_She'd evaded death by the narrowest sliver, suffered the kind of pain that makes the spectator white faced and nauseous. And there wasn't anything I could do, except feel supremely thankful that the blanketed duo didn't include her. Not her. I was so savagely relieved that others had died, if that had been the necessary bargain with the Fates, and I could not even bring myself to feel the justified guilt for that cruel illogicality._

_No price could be too high, weighted against Trinity's survival; anything else was a feather in the breeze._

_Ice had been sympathetic, but there hadn't been anything she could do. Sister or not, I had to wait three weeks before I was able to see her, reassure myself that she truly was all right, that there wasn't any permanent damage._

_But when I arrived at the Infirmary, Maggie said Trinity had already left. Had discharged herself as soon as she possibly could._

_Maggie had been crisp, professional and capable, and her misery had been as clear to me as if she'd been crying._

_Those two had never gelled._

_Maggie was so warm and sweet, we all wanted to protect her and look out for her, Trinity included, I think. But Trinity hadn't ever known how to engage with someone as cripplingly shy as Maggie had been, back then. And Maggie never was able to see past the reserve._

_Then it happened, and from from that point on there just hadn't been any way back._

_Maggie's inability to kill shamed Trinity. Her own precise skill and facility as an assassin makes her uneasy, always has. And all the Academy praises for their supernova evaporated into meaninglessness, when confronted by Maggie's total inability to cause another human being harm._

_They literally can't stand to be in the same room any more. It's as if the other holds up a mirror of all they will never be; all they're most ashamed of. Maggie feels she let us all down. Trinity feels... I don't know exactly how she feels about it. It isn't the kind of thing she'd ever discuss. But I know she feels badly._

* * *

I don't think you can be happy with someone if you're a mess when you meet them. Blood in the water attracts sharks, you know? So I can't imagine a relationship with anyone, now.

Yannis. Roi. Malia.

And it isn't something that ever goes away.

Yannis was three years ahead of us, in the Academy. He happened to be back on leave, my eighteenth birthday. He was friends with AK and Sparks, bought me a drink, wished me luck. And that was it. He was big and blonde and happy and everyone just liked him right off. He was that kind of person. Loud, but friendly. Interested in everyone. But I didn't see him again until I was doing rounds in the Infirmary, two years on. He'd been injured in the Matrix, and was uncharacteristically subdued. I set to trying to raise his morale, to cheer him up. I found he was easy to talk to, to entertain. I'm not a funny person, I never have been, but he would coax me into laughing and joking and we just fit well together. He made me feel safe, really; I know the others would laugh that that matters to me, but he did. He really did. He just made me happy.

The evening after his discharge he came round and said he wanted to take me out for a meal. I had trouble getting the words out fast enough to accept. And afterwards, he walked me home, was about to leave, and I just reached for his arm and said, "Stay." He'd looked slightly troubled and said, "You sure?" and I'd started to laugh, because I truly hadn't ever been so sure of anything. It was wonderful. Awkward, slightly painful even, but wonderful, anyway. He was so nice to me. And so gentle, and really it wasn't awkward for long, let alone painful. And the rest of his leave he spent with me. With the others too, but with me, all the time. And everyone just accepted it. They all seemed to just feel that we were a good fit, and we were. We made each other happy. It was so easy, always. So clear.

I was twenty, and I began to do quite well at the Infirmary, I was finding I had good diagnostic skills, that being a poddie and having briefly been out was an advantage. It was hard missing Yan, but it meant I concentrated damn hard when he was away, to keep my mind off of it. I got a lot more confident. The shame was less, because I was helping Fleet members, maybe not as well as I could have out there, but helping. Yan gave me a lot of confidence, he just believed in me. And I grew up, stopped being scared of everything, began to assert myself a little when necessary. Yan loved it when he came home; he was always so proud of me, and so much fun. We used to just laugh and laugh about stuff, stupid stuff, but it was great, just being happy, I can't tell you. When I was twenty-two he said he wanted us to get married, and I was good with that. I was settled in Zion, we'd have no childcare problems as and when, we had a good life, we loved each other. I didn't care that the guys all laughed at me for it, and Switch ribbed me for saying yes, or at least waiting to be asked, when she had shredded poor Apoc the one time he'd tried. Conventionality sounded just fine to me.

I was in total denial, of course.

He was fighting in a war, and I was pretending he was away on business or some such crap. That we could recreate some kind of Matrix picket-fenced fantasy. That somehow that might keep him safe.

When they told me I had to know everything. Everything. Kali was First Mate at the time, she came, and she just put her arms around me and tried to help. But there was nothing. Not knowing he'd suffered like that. She kept saying; Maggie, you really don't want to know, you really don't want me to tell you this, you really shouldn't ask. Maggie, he wouldn't want you to know. I just looked at her and said, didn't she get it, didn't she see? Whatever he went through, knowing couldn't be as bad as wondering, and feeling ashamed because I'd been too cowardly to face it. Being told, I mean.

I want to talk about Roi. About Malia. Because I truly didn't love any one of the three any more or any less, and I don't miss or think about one any more or any less, either. Just differently. And it surprised me to fall in love with Malia, because I'd thought after Roi that I couldn't - but I didn't have any defenses against falling for a girl, so I suppose she crept under the radar. I don't know. I just know that I can't talk about more than one at a time, because one is as much as I can bear.

Loving them was completely different. Losing them, now that was always the same.

When you lose someone, everything is bursting with them. Every single place you go, everything you do, the phrases you use, the plates you wash, the bed you sleep in and the times of the day.

And time passes. Days that had meaning, and days that didn't. So you wonder how you could have let a day with them alive slide past, without marking it in your memory, keeping it safe? And you resent time draining away, because every day is a step further from them; the life ahead of you gathering pace, pulling away from the life behind. It feels like losing them all over again, with a bitter taste of betrayal blended about the edges.

Grief is mundane. It isn't glamorous. It's always the same. The people you love, the feelings you have for them, they're sharply differentiated and sharply unique. But losing them boils down, always, to a pressure in your chest and a twisting in your gut and a burning behind your eyes and your cheekbones, and none of it can be assuaged by anything but time.

After Malia, I knew I couldn't stay in Zion. Not treating Fleet injuries. Not any more. So despite being hopelessly over qualified by that point, I put in for a transfer, to join a ship as medic. And got the Hammer.

If I'd known at fifteen I'd be serving with AK, I think I'd have died happy.

But then, I'd have known perhaps more than I wanted to in other ways, too.

* * *

_She sat there, and said very little._

_Then as suddenly as you can imagine - and Trinity isn't a sudden person - she said, "How do you know, though? When you love someone?"_

_"How do you know you're alive?" I heard myself say._

_"We don't," she said. "Do we. We know rather more about the lies we can be made to believe than most. Which is my point, Ghost. How can you ever know?"_

_Maggie has lost three lovers to the Matrix. She looked at Trinity, and her face made me flinch. It's what I most fear, and she's known it three times._

_"The pain of someone you love - it hurts you far more than your own," she said. "You can't fake that. Or mistake it. It just is."_

_After that, Trinity was silent. We all were._

_When Trinity was fifteen, and newly freed, she kept trying things she wasn't ready for. She was told to stop, but couldn't be contained. She kept hurting herself._

_I remember seeing the blood edging her mouth when they would take out the jack._

_I can't protect her. I can only hope. But it isn't enough._

_And there isn't anything else._

* * *

It was beyond odd. Even remembering it shakes me. It's a total split from after and before, and we were there at the time. We saw it. I keep my mouth shut on board, because every ship has its own climate, and ours isn't conducive to open faith. But he's the One. I'm certain. So this truly was being there at the beginning. Or the end. I'm not sure.

He was very attractive. Huge hazel eyes, big built but soft spoken- trusting. Really open. Gentle. Very grateful for everything, extremely polite. Passive, almost. He just looked at her, as if she were an anchor, and he would be swept away if he didn't hang on tight. If you had to imagine an anti-Trinity in male form, he'd probably have been it. But- she held his left hand in both of hers. In front of us all, she just stood there beside him while I checked him over. I mean, self possession was always total with Trinity, but she was looking at him in a way I hadn't believed she even could. She loved him. It was that simple and that blindingly obvious. The guys didn't see it, not for a while longer, they couldn't, God knows what they came up with instead, but she was alive with it, radiated it. They both did.

Later, in the med bay, he was sedated and stretched out, monitored, to be on the safe side. I kept telling her to go get some rest, she'd been through hell herself, but she wouldn't, she just sat by him, her hand on his, watching, asking repeated questions, despite already knowing the entirely mundane answers. Eventually I couldn't help myself.

"Okay. Who are you, and what have you done with Trinity?"

It was a joke, of course it was a joke, but at the same time, I hadn't ever been so damn serious in my life. She looked at me, stunned, and then suddenly smiled. A real smile, a huge, warm one I'd never seen before. Her whole face glowed with it.

"Thank you," she said, with total sincerity, "thank you, Maggie. I know you're looking after him."

And she looked - happy. Even alongside the grief, with the Neb wiped out. The people we loved. In that tiny space they keep between the two of them, they were happy. They still seem to manage it, even now.

I mean it. Everything changed then. Everything. But nothing, nothing, struck me as forcibly as Trinity looking at me, then back down at some man, like that.

Two days later, Colt got stuck without an exit and Neo went in, picked him up, and flew away.


	11. Zion

"You never said you could do that!" Roland burst out, almost accusingly, the second Trinity removed the jack.

Neo blinked, disoriented. "I didn't know I could until I did," he said.

"But you goddamn flew!"

"Yeah, he did it to cause you personal offense," Trinity muttered, and Morpheus' quietly terse reproof made her mouth tighten. Then her face softened, as Neo looked up at her. Her hand still rested on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded, his eyes locked on her face, and she exhaled with evident relief, her shoulders relaxing. "Okay then," she said. "Good."

* * *

The Hammer was a nightmare for Neo. Roland treated him with extreme brusqueness, bordering on contempt, seemingly terrified of being implicated by mere association. Or perhaps his reflex irritation with Morpheus spilled over onto his startling new protégé. It was hard to tell, and didn't much matter.

The rest of the crew was unnerved.

They were unnerved by what they had seen on their feeds when Morpheus was rescued. They were unnerved by the day Neo went in to help Colt, and then flew away. And they were unnerved by Trinity's grimly protective devotion to this man, who performed casual miracles with such unassuming ease.

None of it aligned with their views on the possible, never mind the likely.

Trinity had quietly arranged with Morpheus that she and Neo should work on emergency repairs on the Neb. Everyone knew that Neo was ill equipped to do any such thing, but nobody mentioned it. The deaths had left Trinity raw, and there was a new glint in her eyes that made them wary.

One day the crew roughly teased a bemused Neo on his newbie inability to help in any useful manner with the general maintenance chores. The attempt at banter had been heavy-handed, but not unusually so, not by the brutal standards of the Fleet. Yet Trinity's response had been swift, protective and icily effective. It was devastatingly apparent that where Neo was concerned, her iron self discipline no longer held.

That night in the mess, Mauser announced, "There's something going on between those two."

Colt abruptly put down his spork, shook his head slowly as he looked over at Mauser. "You dumbass," he said.

"I'm telling you..."

"Of course there's something going on. How the fuck d'you ever make it out at all? There's shit where your brains should be - Maggie, scan the bastard."

Maggie bit her lip to suppress a smile.

AK had been watching her, and he began to laugh. "You've been holding out on us, girl," he said accusingly.

"She hasn't said anything to me," Maggie said. "She didn't need to. You're just slow. Or blind. Your call."

Trinity was the one constant Neo had, in a flood of change that he was struggling to survive. Nothing else made any sort of sense, and only the knowledge that he didn't have to do this alone made it bearable. He found himself increasingly unable to believe that he had ever been without her, even as he needed constantly to prove to himself that she truly did exist. That pale face framed by dark hair, the watchful blue eyes, the remote, distant manner with everyone else - that stopped, the moment they were alone, and she turned to him with the vibrant warmth that could suffuse her face in seconds. He found reassurance in being the only person able to comfort her in her grief for Switch, Apoc and Dozer; in the fact that his near desperate need for her was so plainly reciprocated. When they were alone, they were able to simply be happy, in a way neither had ever really known before. Yet they were alone so rarely. The ship held a full crew, and privacy was a near impossibility.

Morpheus and Neo had been assigned the cabin used for the newly freed, and Trinity had been put in to share with Maggie. To her surprise it was far less difficult than she had anticipated. Maggie's tact was immense, her ability to disappear at opportune moments uncanny. Trinity was also disconcerted to find that the younger woman was clearly a quietly authoritative presence aboard the Hammer; not merely well liked, but well respected. Her Captain paid her the greatest of all compliments - he ignored her unless he wanted anything. There was no need to supervise.

"You've changed," she said abruptly one night as they prepared for bed.

Maggie had not been thrown in the slightest.

"People do," she said calmly, neatly folding her sweater and stowing it away. "Or at least, they should. What point is there, otherwise?"

* * *

Zion. The great Dock, domed, lying beyond the serried defenses of the main gates. Neo had been amazed by the sheer scale of it, the ranked rows of docking bays, the tracks for the mechanized transport systems, the milling of the uniformed personnel. He followed her to the elevators, and on the way, saw from the railed balconies the endless fall of levels, the great bridges and walkways intersecting.

"It's huge," he said, staring over the barrier edge in shock, as the great cylindrical city stretched away beneath him, neat red door succeeding neat red door.

"Quarter of a million people."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So not that big, really, given. But it's ours. It survives. And it's free, we're free."

She put a hand out to his arm, as he looked about him, assessing this new world.

"It's human," she said, "It belongs to us," and her face warmed into a smile.

The elevators were crammed, but mostly with civilians, and neither of the other two military personnel were Fleet. Trinity received curious glances, but the interest, Neo realized, was aimed at her uniform. They didn't recognize her. The anonymity made him happy. He was pleased to think that they would be able to rely upon it, on leaves to come.

They arrived at a small red door, identical to all the rest, on a mid level in the tubular city. She unlocked and opened it and stepped inside, and he followed her. A room, almost unnaturally tidy. Functional. A chair, a desk, and a large bed in a carved stone recess. Shelves and areas for storage, mostly bare, her possessions presumably stored out of sight. The inevitable computer. Neo was fascinated by Trinity's home, the first space he had seen that was wholly personal, wholly her own. The very impersonality of the space he saw moved him. She had, he realized, treated it simply as an extension of the Neb. There was nothing individual at all.

She remained by the door, leaning against the wall, observing him. His obviously controlled curiosity prompted her to say gently, "You are allowed to, Neo. I mean, unless you've changed your mind..."

"I'm not going to change my mind," he said at once.

She smiled. "Then it's your home, and you need to explore it."

Neo was silent, and she waited, until he looked up at her, shrugged slightly. "I don't feel like it's my home, yet. Zion, I mean."

"It will. I promise." Trinity quickly closed the space between them, hugged him fiercely. "It'll be our home."

He bent his head to kiss her, and suddenly they realized that they were free - from duty, other people, the ship. They were civilians now, private individuals, alone in their own home. For an instant, they froze. Neo took her face in his hands, looked at her silently. She matched his gaze, and neither moved or spoke for a long moment. Then she covered his hands with her own, took them from her face, and joined them behind her back, reaching her arms around him as they began to kiss.

They were tense at first, unable to ignore the enormity, the irrevocability of the step they were taking. But after an endless, draining week of enforced restraint the need was overwhelming, and soon neither cared about anything other than the feel of the other's mouth and hands on their body, about skin meeting skin, about the chance, finally, just to love one another. It bore only the most ghostly likeness to the awkward, muted, gray exchanges of Neo's virtual history, and he was shocked by how natural, compulsive, instinctive, loving her was; how shiningly right. With every gasp and every shiver, every turn of her head and movement of her body he was losing himself more in her, drowning more completely in the visceral intensity of the real. He became less and less sure where he ended and she began until, eyes dazed with need, she pulled him within her, and they moved to a rhythm as ancient as humanity itself. He cradled her close, one hand entwined in her hair, the other under her waist, as she locked her body around his, pulling him ever closer, deeper into her. Finally she arched and cried out, her eyes wide with love and amazement, which defeated him in turn as completely as it was always to do.

After, neither wanted him to withdraw, both unwilling for this moment to be over, already a memory. Already a part of their past. It had been new to them both in its intensity, in how much it mattered, and yet, somehow, it had also felt utterly familiar, as if they'd been making love to one another for years. It was more tender, more joyous than anything they'd ever imagined.

"I wish I could tell you," he said eventually, his face still buried in her neck. He felt her cheekbones move against his skin; knew that she smiled.

"You've shown me," she said. "It's enough."


	12. When You Are Old

Ghost felt his heart constrict when he opened the door five days later, and saw Trinity standing there. She looked tired, he noted, drawn. She immediately put her arms around him and hugged him tightly, and then after a moment drew back, and looked into his eyes, and nodded, apparently satisfied with what she saw. He wished he could feel similarly. Her face looked as if an older woman inhabited it than the one he'd said goodbye to, ten weeks before.

"Ghost- I'm sorry I didn't come to see you before now."

"You never need to apologize to me. Ever."

Her face softened. "I know that. I am anyway."

"I understood."

She looked at him. "Neo?" she said. Simply, without preamble. "You know about Neo?"

Ghost shrugged. "Who doesn't?"

She sighed, and leaned back against the door frame, her hands behind her. "The Council spend most of the days trying to work out how he does it. If he can do more. If he can show anyone else how to. And in the evenings, the whole goddamn fleet drops by. I seem to spend my life fending people off. He's only been free a month, he's entitled. We're entitled. It makes me angry."

"They have to, Trinity. The Council."

Her mouth set. "I don't have to like it. It exhausts him. He's a man. Not some kind of weapon."

Ghost nodded, slowly, and Trinity gave him an affectionate smile. "You're one of the few people I want him to meet," she said. "And you're one of the few who wouldn't visit."

"Not unrelated, perhaps. I realized you needed some time."

"Nobody else has."

"You can't blame people for curiosity. It's the human condition." He coughed slightly. "How are you?"

She looked at her hands, and he waited. Then she looked up, sighed. "I miss them," she said.

"I know. So do I."

"He didn't know them. Not really. He doesn't know what to say. It's hard for him."

"Harder for you."

There was a silence, and then "No," she said. "No. I've changed my mind. I think it's harder to watch, sometimes, than to suffer."

"Is he suffering?"

"I don't know." She paused, and then said "I think- he's struggling."

Later, they walked slowly to the elevators, and waited there. Neither spoke until they reached the level where Switch and Apoc had had their room. The red door seemed identical to the others, to a casual observer, but Trinity reached out a finger and traced the line of a scratch in the red paint; remembered the occasion it was made. There was a silence.

"You have the key?" Ghost said eventually.

Trinity nodded mutely, but made no move to retrieve it.

"We don't have to do this today, Trinity. You don't."

She stared at the door for a few moments more. "We do. I can't leave it any longer. It's been over a week, I owe them it. If I don't A & S will step in. Switch would hate that."

"Authority rummaging through her things…………"

"God knows how many infractions are in there. Apoc once said he lived in permanent fear of raids."

"He lived for it. The drama, he was so peaceful himself, he admired her for it. And she broke rules, not laws."

Trinity smiled with an edge of cynicism. "Sparks- he came round last night. He said he didn't want her hack codes, now. He wanted her liquor."

"Sparks is immutable."

"Is that what they call it." She stood, biting her lip.

"Do you want me to?"

"No," said Trinity. And opened the door.

The room was cluttered and untidy- the strict orderliness of active service had never come naturally to them. The bed was roughly made, and Switch's home shirt and pants lay strewn across it, where she had left them, last leave. Trinity went slowly over, picked them up and began to fold with automatic precision. Ghost walked over to the desk and began to sort through the piles of disks, tools, clothing, and the general, disparate clutter of Zion life.

"Do we look at their disks? Or just wipe them?" Trinity said doubtfully.

"They've probably left instructions somewhere. As to what they wanted. Most people do."

"True."

But Trinity was unprepared for what lay on the first one they opened. They stood, and looked at it, and then she said "Jesus."

It was poetry.

"I didn't know Apoc liked poetry," she said.

"He didn't. Switch did."

"But- it looks like love poetry."

"She liked love poetry."

"You've got to be kidding me. And how the hell do you know?"

Ghost was looking at the screen, and he scrolled down, slowly. "She asked me to make these up for her. She said she wasn't well read enough to know where to look. So I put a few together. Yeats. She liked Yeats."

_"When you are old and grey and full of sleep,_

_And nodding by the fire, take down this book,_

_And slowly read, and dream of the soft look_

_Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;_

_How many loved your moments of glad grace,_

_And loved your beauty with love false or true,_

_But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,_

_And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_

_And bending down beside the glowing bars,_

_Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled_

_And paced upon the mountains overhead_

_And hid his face amid a crowd of stars."_

Trinity had her hands clenched on the back of the chair, and Ghost saw the knuckles whiten, the veins stand out in sharp relief.

"None of us are ever going to live to be old," she said. "None of us. You know that, Ghost. What possessed you?"


	13. Blue Fire

It takes me some time to find her. The Temple is full, and even the military section is crowded, but she's not anywhere she'd usually be.

I have no idea what he looks like.

Then I glance slightly to the side as I pass a darkened, recessed alcove, and she's there.

They're there.

They can't see me. They can't see anything except each other.

He's very tall. He must be, to be able to lean over her like that.

They're talking softly. She is standing slightly below him, the alcove slopes. She has her back against his chest. His arms are wrapped around her shoulders, hands locked over her breastbone, holding her close. She's got her hands over his, her head tilted right back so she can see his face as he bends it forwards, over her own. The intimacy is effortless. They are entwined.

She always guards her privacy so fiercely. Her space. No one encroaches.

"There's nowhere," he says.

"Oh, really? Nowhere?"

"No. There isn't anywhere I wouldn't go."

"Hell?" she suggests, and smiles at him. He looks back as if the world has contracted down to her, and nothing else matters. So he's not stupid, after all.

"I'd come after you," he says quietly.

"To hell?" she says, eyebrow raised, and starts to laugh.

"You know I would."

She looks up at him as he says this, and suddenly she's not laughing anymore. Her face is still glowing, but serious. She mouths his name, silently. Then she pulls away, straightens, turns so she's facing him, and puts a hand to his face.

He moves in slowly, looking into her eyes until the very last moment. He has one hand on her hip, and the other on the nape of her neck.

They kiss for some time.

When they break off, he presses his forehead to hers. "I love you so much," he says, and it sounds like desperation.

She puts her hands on either side of his face, says in a voice I didn't know she had, "I love you more than I know how to," then buries herself in his arms, her face in his neck, and he holds her tightly, his eyes shut, his mouth on her hair.

I back away. I'm shaking, and as soon as I reach a dark space, I sink to my heels and squat against the wall.

I have never seen Trinity truly happy before. Not in fourteen years.

And I never even knew it.

* * *

I have an email from her the next morning. She'd sent it at oh five twentythree, but later, people in the mess tell me that they'd left at twenty three forty.

Nobody leaves a Gathering until six hundred or so.

"Guess they had some urgent business," Ballard says with a smirk. "Who'd have ever believed it? That Trinity would be so damned obvious?"

I've never liked Ballard. At moments like this, I recall why.

Niobe glances at me, then looks away. I know she means well, I know it's fuelled by affection, but her resentment of Trinity on my behalf angers me for its injustice even more than for its presumption. Trinity does not know, because I do not want her to know. Which leaves our relationship intact.

The email says she's sorry she missed me, that Neo was sorry too. That she wants me to come and meet him properly at their place tonight.

Their place.

When Switch and Trinity first started serving, left the Academy dorms, they were allotted their own personal rooms by A&S. Switch had promptly refused hers. She wanted to live with Apoc.

Trinity had been stunned. "They're away mostly," she said. "They'll have precious little privacy onboard. Why give up her own room here? She didn't need to."

"Why does she need one?" I'd said, puzzled. She'd looked at me as if I'd taken leave of my senses.

"Who'd live with someone when they didn't have to? They'll be together all the time on the Neb as it is. Don't they ever need to be alone?"

"Yes. But I think they need to be alone together."

"She's mad," she said flatly. "Moving in. Insanity. When she can have her own space."

"They like being together," I'd repeated.

"I like being with you. It doesn't mean I don't need time to myself. A room of my own."

"Virginia Woolf."

"Shut up. Everyone needs that."

"They don't, apparently."

Her jaw had set. "I always will. Always. I'm never living with anybody, and nobody is ever moving in with me."

"Maybe if you love them..."

Her voice had been steely. "Nobody, _nobody_, will ever deprive me of what I am."

"But..."

"Without time alone, you can't even begin to know who that is."

Neo has moved in. They've known one another six weeks.

* * *

Lock was vocal in his disapproval of the Council's interest in Neo.

Trinity was equally vocal in her disapproval of Lock.

Trinity never talks much. She prefers to act. So she isn't known for precisely worded, depth charge anger in Fleet Council meetings. In fact, she's never even spoken in one before. She has a perfect Service record, and has been commended so often, people have lost count. So her right to speak, and be heard, is unquestioned. She's simply lacked any interest in doing so. She despises politics, and to my amusement would often plan complex works schedules in her mind during compulsory sessions.

"That isn't what they're for," I said once, with slight reproach.

"Wasting time isn't what I'm for. And this is all bullshit. They decide before we ever walk in- it's all for morale. Meaningless."

I'd laughed- it was such a Trinity answer.

But Lock's pompous assertions that Morpheus was taking too much upon himself, exaggerating, filling a naïve young man's head with ridiculous dreams of glory, caused her to raise her hand, stand when Dillard nodded to her. The assembled Fleet had craned their necks.

"Commander," she said, "Forgive me. I'm afraid I need some clarification. You're saying that you don't regard the defeat and subsequent deletion of an Agent, human resurrection after death, and then flying as an encore - as being in any way- unusual? Could you tell us what you would regard as constituting a sufficiently unusual service record? I'm intrigued."

Fleet meetings are for Fleet contributions. He had no grounds for complaint. Even though the entire room had erupted into laughter.

Lock hadn't laughed. And Trinity hadn't laughed, either. They had looked at one another in sudden, total recognition, and her eyes had snapped blue fire.

I don't think I've ever felt more proud of her.

Before, I think Lock had pitied Trinity, loyal to a ne'er do well Captain. Now, he saw that she and Morpheus were allies, that she was far from being a loyal handmaiden. He'd underestimated her.

"You just wrecked your career, Trin," Sparks said after, worried and hiding it with satire. She'd shrugged, and her total lack of concern, or even interest, stunned the watching Fleet members.

Trinity has always been marked out as destined for great things. Even when we were very young, people used to watch her, comment. She was going to be a leader. That she might not care about achievement, at least in the form generally envisaged, hadn't occurred to them.

It still hasn't.

She's just seen as too smitten with Neo to see straight.

* * *

He's wary, and he's somehow still, in a way that reminds me of her. That surprises me, because the Fleet gossip is all about how very different they are. I can sense that he's assessing me minutely, and that he won't give me the benefit of any doubts where she's concerned. I can understand that. I won't with him, either. And it makes me warm to him, that he's so protective of her, even if he can't ever acknowledge it, because she'd hate it. Given his abilities, it also reassures me that she's suddenly a great deal safer than she ever was before. If anyone can keep her alive in there, Neo can.

He shakes my hand, and smiles. "It's good to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

I have to laugh. "Not as much as I've heard about you from... everyone. I'd be prepared to guarantee it."

She's amused, and one of her rare smiles suddenly blossoms, and she leans in, against him, as he slides an arm around her waist, his fingers lightly threading with hers.

"I hope none of it came from Lock," she says. "If so, just believe the reverse."

"Be fair." He seems not remotely bothered. But then, he hadn't been there.

And she deadpans, "I don't want to be fair. I want to be angry," and looks at me, and I see the way he looks at her, and suddenly I know. And despite everything, and that includes a jealousy I can't fully suppress, a part of me simply feels great relief.

He loves her as much as I do.


	14. Academy Sudden Death

"Neo." Sparks said.

"She isn't here." The dark eyes were wary.

"I know. She and Morpheus are getting their asses kicked in the Inquiry. But I wanted to speak to you."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Neo's hand still rested on the door, and he made no move to unblock it, invite Sparks inside. But Sparks seemed not to notice.

"It's about her," he said. "Trin."

Neo looked at him, for a moment that was slightly too long to be comfortable. "I don't want to talk about Trinity," he said.

"Look, I've known her for fourteen years..."

"To anyone. And definitely not to you."

Sparks shrugged, unconcerned. "That girl isn't alive because she's good," he said, "she's alive because she's lucky."

Neo said nothing, but his face hardened.

"I don't believe in Ones, or Prophecies," Sparks continued, "but flying? That, I definitely _can_ get behind. And you need to get it into your head that she's not fucking infallible. She thinks so, Morpheus is worse, but she's not. Her kind always end up getting themselves killed, because they end up thinking that they can't. I'm an Operator. I know."

Neo said suddenly, seemingly involuntarily, "Why? Why are you here?"

"Well, look at it this way. If we're playing Academy Sudden Death, here - and my take is, that's just exactly what we're doing - then she and Ghost are next in line. And okay, Ghost is a mad bastard, but he hasn't got a death wish. Not on Trinity's scale, anyway. Plus he has something else she's lacking."

"What?"

"Me."

"You're telling me you're concerned," Neo said slowly. "About her."

Sparks felt a sudden surge of irritation. What the fuck was Trinity playing at - did retards do it for her, then? Since when? Wasn't as if there hadn't always been a real selection in Zion, after all.

"I've known that girl since we were fifteen years old," he said, "and take it from me, she's always been an almighty pain in the ass. Stubborn, secretive, downright fucking infuriating. Always. But I'm telling you, Superman, you watch her back. Morpheus has a real knack for killing his crew, you could say he excels at it, and you're going to get him good and cocky. Trin can't beat Agents. She can't fly. And she can't fucking well be resurrected, either. Someone on the Neb needs to remember that, and I'm just suggesting that that someone be you."

"What are you saying to him?" Trinity's voice, behind them. Sparks turned to look at her.

She was standing straight, her mouth was tight, and her eyes were narrowed.

"Trinity!" said Sparks. "Always a pleasure. I was just mentioning that I have to live with Ghost if you come back blanketed. And fuck knows, he's not the best company as it is."

And with that, he walked away.

There was a silence.

"I think he was concerned," Neo said, doubt in his voice. "I think."

"No. Or at least, not primarily. He was mainly trying to freak you out. Trust me. He's never going to change. But don't let him get to you."

"Is he good? As an Operator?"

She nodded. "Oh yes, very. He's one of the best on the Fleet." She grimaced briefly. "If it weren't for that, I'd have killed him myself. Years ago."

Neo looked at her. "Anything I should know?"

She considered, her eyes focused on his. Then she said, "Maybe. One day. When we've finished talking about all the things that actually matter."

"Never, then."

She smiled at him, and he put his arms around her, rested her head under his chin.

"I've just had a very bad morning," she observed into his sweater.

"I know. I'm sorry. But it's about to get better."

"Really?"

"Really. I promise."

* * *

"I don't know, it just went dead."

Jesus. Since when did the One have to be so physically inept?

I check - but he's right. It's dead.

The cell.

"Cypher? Where's Tank?" What the hell... we simply don't have time for this shit. We have to get Neo out. _Now._

A long, long beat.

"You know, for a long time, I thought I was in love with you."

What? What the hell?

"I used to dream about you..."

I knew something was badly wrong. It radiated off of him. But I hadn't wanted the connection any inquiry would create.

"...too bad things have to turn out this way."

There's only one answer. One meaning. "You killed them."

The faces swing round to look at me. Switch accepts the reality at once - she always does. But Apoc can't. And I can't look at Neo.

If anything happens to Neo, I've failed us all. I've never known such innocence - it doesn't exist in my world. And he still has it, even now. He still trusts, as if that's normal. We took him from his life and blew it apart, and we've put him in such danger.

"...tired of this war, tired of fighting, tired of this ship, of being cold, of eating the same goddamn goop every day..."

I'm smarter than he is. Jesus, we all are, it's hardly a fucking challenge. But that's no help here. He's not even smart enough to know that he's stupid. How do you get through to a fool? And I never was much of a communicator.

"...but most of all I'm tired of that jackoff and all his bullshit...surprise, asshole. I bet you never saw this coming. Did you. God, I wish I could be there. When they break you...so right then, you'd know it was me..."

"You gave them Morpheus."

"He lied to us Trinity, he tricked us. If you'd have told us the truth, we'd have told you to shove that red pill _right up your ass_..."

"That is not true, Cypher. He set us free." I can't let Morpheus down, not now, not after all he's given.

"Free? You call this free? All I do is what he tells me to do..."

What? There must be something. But I know nothing about him. He's a total stranger. I've spent the past nine years blocking him out, so I could live alongside a man who constantly invades my space. And maybe if I hadn't, maybe if I'd let him get to know me, he'd have lost interest. Fucked off to civilian life where he belongs. But I didn't.

_Think. There must be something._

"... if I have to choose between that and the Matrix, I choose the Matrix."

"The Matrix isn't _real_." God, he's always been so fucking stupid. Frustratingly, painfully stupid. Stupid, and selfish, and limited...and lethal.

"I disagree Trinity. I think the Matrix can be more real than this world. All I do is pull the plug here. But there, you have to watch Apoc die."

I turn, and look at Apoc, Apoc who greeted Ghost and I so warmly all those years ago, Apoc who taught me how to do a backflip in the Construct with such affectionate patience, Apoc who first saw me do the eagle kick and raced around the Academy, yelling "Trin can fly..." Apoc, who was so blown away by Switch from the very first day he saw her, and they were the only ones who didn't know it.

He looks at me and whispers, "Trinity!" - and then it's over.

Switch whimpers "No!" and runs over to him, abandons her gun, fumbles with the unbelievable reality, then turns to look at me. And I see that she's broken. Her face is naked. All her defenses are finally gone.

"Welcome to the real world huh baby."

I have a clincher. He must know it. "But you're _out_ Cypher, you can't go back."

And then he says it, "...they're gonna reinsert my body... and when I wake up I won't remember a goddamn thing..."

...and I know that it's done. The machines will kill him, too- why go to such trouble for one human, once he can no longer help them? But I can hear Ghost's voice, from years ago, "human kind cannot bear very much reality..." and I know that Cypher can't afford to believe the truth about that, it's why he wants to go back, after all. He's too weak to handle reality. So he won't.

"...by the way, if you have anything terribly important to say to Switch..."

"Oh no, please don't." My voice is hardly audible, but she knows. She's always been the bravest of all of us, braver than anyone I ever knew. This is no exception.

"Not like this," she says softly. Her face is so sad, and her eyes are bright with the tears for Apoc that she hasn't had time to shed, and she looks so very, very young. "Not like this."

She doesn't sound American. She sounds foreign. And it breaks my heart, because I know there must be so much I don't know. So much nobody, now, ever will. And I should have. I should have talked more, opened up more, shared more, asked more. Told her what she's been to me. I've not spent a day apart from her in fourteen years. In some ways, she's even closer than Ghost.

As I think that, her body slumps. And she's gone.

"Too late," he says. He sounds casual.

_"Goddamn you Cypher." _

"Don't hate me Trinity, I'm just the messenger, and right now I'm going to prove it to you. If Morpheus was right, then there's no way I can pull this plug. I mean if Neo is the One, there'd have to be some kind of miracle to stop me. Right? I mean, how can he be the One, if he's dead? But you never did answer me before. If you bought into Morpheus' bullshit. Come on. All I want is a little yes or no. Look into his eyes, those big, pretty eyes, and tell me. Yes, or no?"

I look at Neo, so solemn and somehow still calm; into those great dark eyes, so warm and wide and sad. He's so beautiful it catches at my heart, but more than that, I instinctively know, as I always have known, that he's the only purely good person I have ever met. There's nothing on this earth I wouldn't give for him, to protect him, help him, stop him from suffering anything at all.

So Maggie was right. Oh God, she was right. "The pain of someone you love..."

And if I love him, then he's the One.

"_Yes._"

And then those eyes go vacant too, and he slumps to the floor, and I can feel my throat tear, close up, as I run over and pull him up, into my arms. The pain I feel is physical, my chest is bursting with it, my head throbs, my throat burns, my stomach is twisted and agonizing, and I feel a huge surge of relief that I'm next, that this pain will end soon. I won't have to know he won't ever look at me again.

And then Cypher says "Don't worry, Trin. Not you. I couldn't - not you. They're putting us both back in. You'll never know anything about it, they're giving us new lives, memories, together..."

I can't reach my gun because I lost it pulling Neo down, and I can't find his because he's lying awkwardly and I can't bear to go through his clothes, he's been through enough, but I can reach Switch's, and I'll fucking decide how this ends, not that piece of shit.

I look down at Neo. _Oh God, Neo_... but I haul myself to my feet, try to move to Switch- but I can't, my arms are being constricted, I can't see anyone, but I still can't move. I start to fight and struggle and I hit out..."Trinity..." I'm being shaken, and I'll kill him, I'd enjoy killing the bastard, he's taken nearly every person I care for and wants to take me too and he won't succeed...

"Jesus, Trinity!" and I know the voice.

It's Neo.

I open my eyes.

I'm in our room in Zion. The familiar curved stone is above me. And Neo - Neo is looking at me with anxiety, and he strokes my face. His other hand is across me in a protective gesture.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. My face is wet. I can feel his fingers slip on my cheekbones, he's brushing away tears. Then he reaches out and pulls my head onto his shoulder, strokes my hair, hugs me close.

"Shhh. It's fine. You're safe. Nothing's going to happen, Trinity."

"I was having a dream."

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I hurt you."

"No. You didn't."

"I hit you, Neo."

I can feel him smile into my hair. "You're only terrifying in there. Not here."

"I'm still sorry."

"Trinity..." he stops. I wait. Neither of us finds talking easy. "Trinity - can you tell me?"

"Tell you?"

"The dream. What you were dreaming about. It sounded frightening."

I grip his hand and he grips it back, and we're quiet for a few minutes. Then I say, ""I was dreaming about Cypher. About Switch and Apoc..."

He hugs me tighter. "Trinity..."

"He killed you too," I whisper. "You died. I had you in my arms and you were dead. But he wouldn't kill me. I was going to be reinserted. I dreamed that Cypher killed you... but not me."

He freezes, and there's a pause for a few minutes. Then he lifts his head and looks at me. His eyes are very wide, and there's real fear in them. And then he says, very softly, "I can fly. Stop bullets. Don't even know what else. But _you_ can't. And..."

He can't bring himself to say it. So I kiss him, and he kisses me back, and then inevitably we begin to make love, because we've already discovered that it's the most reliable way of convincing ourselves that the other isn't going anywhere.

Or at least, not yet.


	15. Kansas Is Going Bye Bye

I'm not surprised she's had a nightmare. I'm surprised she's only had the one.

I wanted to kill them, when she told me. Those sage, friendly faces, always so polite, "Neo, we're so sorry to take up so much of your leave... thank you so much for your patience..." and then they did that to her. As if it wasn't enough, that she'd had to go through it at all.

She was asked to give them enough information to create a simulation. Then to go through it, correct the stuff they'd got wrong. Relive the single worst experience of her life. It was to help with future training, apparently. Like there was a damn thing she could have done. Like you can train against cold-blooded murder.

She's spent more than a decade out there. For Zion. For them. And they repay her with this.

She doesn't resent it in any way. She just said it was her fuckup, and the Fleet can learn from it, and it's the Council's responsibility to ask, and hers to comply. She said that it was fine. But her hands clenched against her arms, folded in front of her, when she said it, and her face was suspiciously free of expression.

I've never felt anger like this before. Never. And I know I could get the Council to back the hell off of her in seconds, if I made a point of it. But she isn't someone who'd appreciate being protected. It would only be the ultimate way of disrespecting her, and who she is.

Someone who makes her own choices.

* * *

It's only been weeks, but already that life, the old life, feels a dream. Feels unreal. It wasn't, of course. Real. It never happened. So it doesn't mean anything.

There's one exception.

I hate parties, I hate clubs. I can't feel comfortable without being able to think and the noise stops that. I don't dance, and I don't like the display of it all. The bullshit. And this seriously wasn't my kind of place. But I was following that rabbit.

"Hello Neo."

She was so beautiful I still can't describe it. But she also looked- I think the word is predatory. The Snow Queen in the story. Hard green eyes, white skin, jet black hair. And the way she held herself- I was slouching, I didn't know where to put my hands. She looked as if she could control anything, not just her body. And she knew me as Neo. Nobody knew me as Neo. I was too damn careful.

"How do you know that name?"

"I know a lot about you."

I wasn't sure if I was more scared or pleased. I wasn't sure it was happening at all. But God, I was confused. I was sure of that. "Who are you?"

"My name is Trinity."

Wheels turning. I knew the name, but it didn't fit. Then: "The Trinity? The one that cracked the IRS d-base?"

"That was a long time ago."

She gets asked that every time. You can tell.

"Jesus."

"What?"

"I just thought... you were a guy."

Good one, Neo. Smooth.

"Most guys do." An edge. She gets that every time, too.

But if she's Trinity, then... "That was you in my computer! How did you do that?"

She came so close. She was touching me and it almost hurt. Like an ache. I remember the perfection of her and I actually remember thinking that she couldn't possibly be real. I was wondering if I was tripping. Nothing else made any sense as an explanation. Women like her don't come up to me. And they certainly don't start knowing things about me. Never mind things that aren't possible to know.

* * *

The memories from the start are hazy, blurred. I trusted her, but Morpheus was the one with the answers, she was more a background hum. A constant, silent reassurance. I think she was to the others, too. I remember Switch's voice, in that car, challenging, irritated - scared. "You're going to lose it!" Trinity, calm, assured, confident, "No I'm not." She was the one they all trusted, even then I saw it.

The room. All those people, all the equipment, no idea what was next.

"You did all this?" If you did, I can.

"Mmm hmmn." Patting down the conduction pads. Capable. Gentle. Strong.

And then everything went.

Her face swam in and out of focus those first days. She would look down at me, and she would have no expression at all. She was so pale, and still, and somehow seemed to be waiting for something.

Her eyes weren't green. They were blue.

When I was let out of the med bay, started mixing with the others, we hardly spoke. She was quietly there whenever I was really freaking out, she had the uncanny ability to just appear, and she always took the time to explain things if I asked, lucidly and with patience. But for the most part, she just got on with her work.

She worked unbelievably hard. I mentioned it to Apoc once, and Switch had jumped in and said, "Yeah. She's a fucking workaholic." She'd given me a look. "And not even a guy."

The others used to go to Trinity over work, but didn't really include her in banter. They never teased her. It was weird, because she wasn't excluded, either - they all liked her, that much was plain - but she was somehow separate a lot of the time; completely lost in thought. I couldn't work it out at first. Only Cypher ever tried to pull her into conversation when she was like that; the others would refer to her as if she were quite literally not there. I realized why, about a week in. Partly it was that she had such a colossal workload she could never truly switch off; was planning and analyzing shit in her head, even when supposedly off duty, and after so many years together they knew not to break her train of thought. But I also saw that it was how the others gave her space. That she found the constant close quarters hard to take, and needed to escape inside her own mind, and they silently respected that.

Or at least, most of them did.

Switch once said that Trinity had escaped, outrun, and outwitted more Agents than almost anyone else. But nobody knew how. She was arguing a point, used that almost clinically to prove it. Trinity was eating at the time, seemed not to be listening, but Cypher wouldn't let it rest.

"How, Trin?" he said. "Go on, tell us. It's only fair. We can copy you."

She raised her head for a moment, looked at him without expression. "Stubbornness."

Trinity and Cypher. For all her careful politeness, there was always a hint of distaste. Faint, but there. Whenever he went near her.

He went near her quite a lot.

Given the lack of any response, I figured he couldn't stay away.

I could understand that.

* * *

Sometimes when I wake up I forget where I am, and then I turn my head, and see her lying there. The reality of her is still shocking, and I always have to watch her for a while. Reassure myself.

She's the most focused person I've ever met, but asleep, she looks like she's finally escaped it. Her responsibilities. Her fears. She looks like that when I make love to her - she's still focused then, there's still the concentration, but for once, it's on herself. On me, too, but she always concentrates on me, too, whatever she does; it's always there. I don't know how the hell I managed to get that lucky. I know how much she loves me. I know it as I can know anything; it isn't something she ever troubles to hide. What I'll never know, is why.

She still has the exact same effect on me she did in that club; she only has to put a hand on my arm or smile at me and I'm so aware of her I can't think straight. And she's the best friend I ever had - it's insane, to be able to talk to someone like I can her. I've never been so honest in my life. Neither of us pries, neither pushes. She waits until I'm ready, and then listens with such intent concentration. Always carefully considers what I have to say, always responds with such thought and intelligence. I always knew she was smart - in the Matrix, the entire hacking community thinks she's a genius - but when I first met her, I assumed she'd be pure logic, pure systematics. And here in Zion, most people assume the same; that she's driven by science, by rationality, by the provable and definite. And she isn't. Oh, her brain fires at a billion gig a milisecond, and the pace she assimilates new information is breathtaking. But what she actually trusts is her gut. She operates on faith, I'm the one who questions everything. She just trusts that it'll be okay, come together, work out in the end. And doesn't like looking at the detail on how.

We never talk about it. The past or the future. And it breaks my heart, because I know losing so many friends over so many years has taught her that it's the only way to cope. To live in the now, to never anticipate, never remember. And when she has to mention them, to plan strategy or assess risk, she does it with such an utter lack of imagination, to protect her own sanity, that it's not surprising some people think she's a cold bitch. The woman I know is sensitive and loving and passionate, and selfless to the point it kills me, but nobody else knows her like I do. Other than Ghost and Morpheus, I don't think anyone's left alive who really knows her at all.

She's frightening in there. Hard-edged, icy. In total control. Here, she's weary, and pale, and shows signs that this life is taking her, that she's aging much faster than her years. I hate it that there's nothing I can do. I watch her sometimes. She'll be working, and I can see the exhaustion in her, the bone deep tiredness, but she's solidly uncomplaining, just does whatever the task might be. Does it carefully. Precisely. She's a perfectionist, never cuts corners. She seems to think: Neo, crew, war, in that order. Nothing else. I want to shield her more than I've ever wanted anything, from all of it, but I can't. I can't do a damn thing except hope. Hope that we'll have a future when all this is over. That we'll be together, have a family. Live a life.


	16. Candlelight

They'd sat in the Council Chamber ante-room after they docked, waiting for Trinity's name to be called. Fleet protocol required that the First Mate report to the Council at the earliest opportunity if a mind had been freed, and such meetings rarely took less than an hour. With four newly liberated souls, the length of the meeting was anyone's guess. She told Neo to go to the Markets while she was in with them, to buy books, pictures, hangings, anything he liked to make their room feel more like his own. She wanted him to make it his home, not just somewhere he stayed when they were back.

"Can you get some food, too? Everywhere'll be shut by the time I get out. You know how godawful these meetings are. Never one word when fifty-eight will do."

"Are you sure?" he asked. He was not referring to groceries, nor the length of Council deliberations.

She kissed him by way of answer, before resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.

"God, I'm so tired. I'm not sure I'll make it through the session awake."

He cradled her head to him with one hand, supporting her body's weight in the crook of his other arm as she leaned in, against him, exhaustion in every fiber. They stayed like that for some time, her breathing becoming soft and regular as she drifted in and out of semi-consciousness; he had to gently rouse her when her name was called. She pulled reluctantly out of his arms then, before standing and disappearing through the door and into an interminable bureaucratic haze.

If she were honest, she thought later, her face professionally controlled as the Council deliberated over her report; queried, congratulated, equivocated; if she were scrupulously honest, that kiss had been an affirmation, but not an answer. She was not, in truth, completely sure of her offer, symbolizing as it did a final, irrevocable surrender of her life as it had always been. She had only been sure of the necessity of making it. So the kiss honored that, without acknowledging her own anxieties. She'd never lied to Neo; was not about to begin, but any hesitation would have prevented him from taking her at her word, and she didn't want that, either.

He'd been so scrupulously careful never to alter the least detail about her home, even though it was now also his. It was time she matched his generosity. Yet she had uncomfortable memories of the chaos he'd chosen to inhabit in the Matrix - the jumble of _stuff - s_o she had braced herself, on returning that night, for an alien, cluttered, crowded space, a space very different from her own orderly home. She'd never liked possessions, never admired the magpie instinct: emptiness gave her the space to think, and that cool, airily ordered clarity had been especially welcome in a city as crowded and compact as Zion. She focused resolutely on Neo, on the need for him to create a refuge from the demands of his work and his life, even if the price of that refuge was the loss of her own.

But when she let herself in and saw what he had done, she found herself unable to speak.

On their bed, scarlet embroidered linen, and surrounding it on every surface dozens of flickering candles, sending lambent, oscillating patterns dancing across the stone arc in the interplay of shadow and light, radiating out, casting a golden, luminous glow throughout the room, rendering her previously coolly minimalist space suddenly animated, lucent, vibrantly alive.

"God," she said eventually. "_God_." She had to sit down.

"I can get rid of it," he said at once. "I can put it back how it was..."

She shook her head fiercely, struggling for the words. "No. No, I was expecting... God, I don't know what I was expecting. I was afraid I'd hate it, my space invaded, to feel crowded, I was all set to be polite and careful and diplomatic. But you did this," tears filled her eyes, "and it feels exactly like us, how we are together, and goddamnit Neo, whatever I was expecting, I wasn't expecting that."

"Then it's okay?" he said.

"It's beautiful," she said, and held out her arms.

* * *

"Neo." Ghost said. "I heard you were back. It's good to see you. How is she?"

"Good. Tired, but good. Sleeping some more."

"Is it true? That you brought four back with you?"

"Yeah."

"Congratulations. It's a record."

"Thanks," Neo said. His voice was somber.

Ghost hesitated, then decided not to press the point. "What are you doing on this level?" he said instead.

"Looking for the Mess. I didn't want to wake her. But I think I'm lost."

"No, it's the next section over. But you're welcome to eat with me, if you'd prefer the privacy. My room's just over there."

Neo's face lightened slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be good, if you're sure. I don't want to intrude."

"It wouldn't be an intrusion," Ghost said. "I'd like to hear how things have been."

Neo looked around as he entered, at the spare, almost austere space. "You know, your room looks a lot like hers used to," he said. "Except for that thing," he indicated the personal processing unit, "and the books. Very..." he fumbled for a polite word, "...uncluttered."

"Used to?" Ghost said, He flicked a switch on a wall and began heating a pan.

"Yeah. She told me to get some stuff while she was with the Council. Looks a bit different now."

"She doesn't mind?"

Neo smiled. "No," he said. "No, she doesn't mind."

"She was never very interested in her surroundings."

"I wasn't either. I was a slob when I was plugged in. Just couldn't work up the energy to care."

"Ah. You're not as tidy as she is, then?"

"Nobody is."

"True. It must be difficult living with someone that precise. All her clothes folded at exact angles..."

"She doesn't seem to mind so much about that now," Neo said absently, and a very private memory flickered behind his eyes.

Ghost had a sudden mental image of Trinity's hastily discarded clothing, the uncharacteristic trail of disarray, and knew the context as plainly as if he'd been there. He busied himself with preparing drinks, breathed carefully until the pain faded. Then he turned round once more.

"Tea," he said, handing Neo a mug. "Mushroom, I'm afraid. I miss the traditional kind, even after all these years. Though of course who knows if it was anything like the real thing, either."

"Thanks."

"We once freed someone with a mushroom allergy, you know. All fungi, in fact. Anything of algae origin too. That was... unfortunate."

"Jesus." Neo's horror was genuine. "What could they eat?"

"Goop. Nothing else. Yes, I know. I remember him, when life feels overwhelming." He cleared his throat. "And I'm glad. If she is becoming less military in her habits, I mean. It never struck me as a good thing. She's investing. Putting down roots. She never did before, you know."

"She invested in you," Neo said. It was impossible to tell whether this was a courtesy, or a genuine belief. "Says you feel more like family than her Matrix one ever did."

"Well, that's mutual. But she was always very reserved. Even with me."

"Sparks – he called her secretive."

"Sparks," said Ghost, "never understood her at all."

"Yeah. I got that."

"I'd have said self-contained. Perhaps a little too much."

"I've never known anyone as strong," Neo said, his face blank. He glanced away at Ghost's books.

"Oh yes. Always."

"I remember thinking that when I first met her. She scared the shit out of me, to be honest."

"A lot of people said that. Even back in the Academy, if you can believe it."

"Oh, I believe it."

"It was the reserve. People thought she was judging them."

"Doesn't sound like her."

"No. But they filled in the gaps. Mostly with their own insecurities. We were all just adolescents."

"I can't imagine her adolescent."

"She was quiet. Very gifted. Took risks to the point of recklessness. But she was never childish, no."

Neo was silent for a moment. Then he said, "It's brought her a lot of crap. Being with me. Probably always will."

"She doesn't seem to think so."

"Tank's not well, did you know? He's in the Infirmary now. All he was up to was Operating. So Morpheus had to look after the targets, once we got them out, and that meant Trinity had to do pretty well everything else. The hours she worked were crazy, she hardly slept at all. I couldn't do much, I'm still new myself."

"You've done some extraordinary things. The stories are astounding - everyone's heard them, you know. I don't think the word most people would use to describe you is _new_."

"Most people haven't seen me on the Neb. I'm definitely new there. Not so long ago she had four people to help her, and she worked too hard, even then."

"Ah. Yes. I had heard that Morpheus is still opposed to any replacement crew."

"They both are," Neo said evenly. "You ever tried arguing with both at once? Because if you haven't, don't bother."

Ghost smiled. "You're a brave man. But if she says she can handle it, then she can. I suspect she thinks the peace of mind is worth it. Especially when you consider what she's been through."

"Cypher was a one-off."

"Perhaps. But she knows she can guarantee your safety if she does it herself. I would imagine she thinks any amount of work is worth that."

Neo stared down into his cup for a moment, as if it contained some secret to the universe, and only sustained observation would reveal it. Then he sighed. "It isn't just that. People are talking. Some of it's about her. Some of it's ugly. And other people... they've started asking me to look after them, watch over them. And I can't do a damn thing. I don't even know what they want from me." He looked up at Ghost, his face oddly haunted. "It may stop Zion being somewhere she can really relax, if it gets much worse."

"Trinity has coped with pain and fear and boredom and death all her adult life. I doubt she even notices gossip. And she knows who you are. She accepts the costs."

"I just wish they'd leave her alone."

"She's happy, Neo. You gave her that. None of us knew she could be that happy before you came. Nothing else matters, it's all meaningless. Let anything else go."

"_Free my mind_?" he said wryly.

"Yes, in a way. She won't care, you know that. She may never even notice."

"Why aimed at her though? It's insane."

"Yes. But what you can do is unfathomable. It defies explanation. It scares these people, just thinking about it. Her loving you doesn't scare them." Ghost sighed. "And she has always been impossible to mock in the past, which I think is a factor too. Nietzsche said, "there is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." I have faith in Trinity, so I share her faith in you. It isn't complicated, but it does require the ability to think."

"Sometimes the questions are complicated, and the answers are simple," said Neo. "Always liked that quote. Had it as a screensaver once."

"Who said that? I like it too."

"Dr Seuss," said Neo, and smiled.

* * *

What he can't mention to Ghost - can't mention to anyone, though people have doubtless noticed it, at the times when Trinity is not by his side - are the Zion-born women who are now making their interest in him horrifyingly plain. He's never been good at noticing female attention. The Oracle herself mocked him for it. So the fact even he finds the approaches obvious, crude, disturbs him, because how many others does he simply not notice at all? And while in the past he'd have been embarrassed, clumsy, suspicious of some kind of imminent punchline, now he's just enraged. Because these women all know about Trinity. Everyone does. And so the insult is not only to their relationship, but to her, individually.

Sometimes on the ship when their sleep shifts overlap, he'll touch her. She's usually much too tired to be able to trade sleep for sex, not if she's to cope at all with the work, so he won't agree to it even if she pleads – she knows, she's tried - but he'll touch her until she's trembling, gasping out his name, coming apart in his arms. And afterwards, he'll hold her while she sleeps, sated and secure, loved and replete. She'd apologized the first time after she'd woken, worried that it seemed unfair, one-sided, to take orgasm at his hands and leave him wanting; repaying his touch with nothing at all. He'd laughed, incredulous. Did she truly have no idea what it did to him, _for _him, to be able to do that? To be able to watch her unravelling completely at his fingertips? And then to watch her afterwards, sleeping peacefully, knowing she was being recharged, renewed? He loves those times, as he loves every other time.

Even now, even after months of this woman being as desperate for him as he is her, he still struggles to believe in it. And has to prove it to himself time and again; to see her face in silent exclamation; to hear her crying out in a voice that sounds both wholly like and wholly unlike herself; to feel the extraordinary sensation when he enters her, unites her body with his own. When they make love, he isn't doing anything_ to _her. He is giving her himself; all of himself. And she, he knows, feels the same. Trust, friendship, intimacy, respect, complete mutual adoration: their whole relationship is distilled into this one, exquisitely pleasurable act. It feels like a gift of such transcendent, transformative glory that, in those moments, he finds it hard to fear anything at all. Whatever lies ahead, a world that has given them such joy must, surely, be benevolent. Would not, surely, have afforded them something so wonderful in vain. And so he struggles to keep his temper with women who suggest that he should betray Trinity. That he should dilute, diminish, degrade one iota of what they share. The mere implication seems such an utter affront.

He knows that they simply don't know. Can't have experienced, may never experience, what he has found. If they had, they'd not begin to suggest he destroy it. And that is the one thing that keeps him from being as cruel as he could be, as he wants to be – that they don't even know what it is they seek to trespass upon. Just how tragic that is, he knows from his life before. He's not even sure it can be called a life, not now. Yet even restrained, even courteously phrased, the depth of his contempt burns. They'll never speak to him again. And he is, savagely, glad of it.


	17. Operator

"Hey Trin, what's up?"

She glanced up, smiled briefly, but said nothing. Sparks sat down beside her on the bench, looked at her for a moment.

"Okay, Lois Lane. Tell your uncle Sparky."

"Why are Operators so obsessed by the movies?"

"Staring at garbage on screens? Beats me. And nicely sidestepped. C'mon, what's wrong? Boy Wonder need a slap?"

"Nothing. And I'd like to see you try."

"Uh huh. What's he gonna do, silent-treatment me to death?"

She smiled, a trifle grimly. "It wouldn't be him after you, Sparks. It'd be me."

"Oh, always with the promises. Could it involve a spanking?"

"You really do have a death wish, don't you?"

"Probably. I hang out with you."

Trinity's face instantly became blank. Sparks glanced at her, then froze. It had been less than two weeks since Tank's burial.

"Oh crap. Trin, I'm sorry. I'm a tactless bastard."

"I know," she said drily. "But it's okay."

"Ghost is a mess as well, you know. Guess none of us feel any too clever, if we're being honest." He cleared his throat. "Oh. I found you guys a new Operator. Heard there was a bit of an issue. It's sorted. No worries."

She looked up sharply. "What? They have to be the best, you do know that?"

"I'm taken. But I got you the next best."

She looked at him, torn between curiosity and suspicion. "Who?"

"Link. Formally volunteered an hour ago."

"Oh, bullshit."

"Okay, now I'm offended. Do I tell you your job?"

"Yes. Constantly."

"Whatever. The guy is the shit. You won't do better."

"And married to Zee. _Zee_, Sparks. She wants us to - and I quote - 'get the hell out of my home, my life, and this goddamn city.' Shortest condolence visit on record."

"Maybe so. But Operators have this sacred code of trust. And if Dozer made Link promise he'd take over on the Neb if ever the need arose, and Link was, tragically, too fucking drunk to recall this tender moment, well shit," Sparks shook his head sadly, "my moral duty is plain."

"Sparks." Trinity pressed a hand to her temple, closed her eyes. "Please. Tell me you didn't."

"Hey, I am what I am, and I do what I can."

"You did, didn't you? You made it up. You lied to a dead man's brother-in-law."

"You have a nasty, suspicious mind, Trinity." Sparks shook his head. "Poor Neo."

"God. I'd have credited even you with a little more sensitivity than that."

"Always a mistake," he said lightly, "crediting me with any."

"Sparks, this isn't a fucking joke!"

"No," he said. His voice was suddenly cold. "It isn't. It's a fucking _war_. And right now, all of the Fleet have their asses on the line because none of the Operators good enough to keep Neo safe will serve on that death-trap. Ten, Trinity. He's killed ten in a year, your boss. Two were freeborns – you ever heard of that kind of toll before, short of squiddies making it a full house? 'Cause I sure as shit haven't. And let's not forget all the other One wannabes that've carked it. Bit unfair to their memories to edit them out, don't ya think?"

"People die. It's the job."

"Don't give me that shit. They don't die that fast anywhere else. And they don't die because one of their own fucking crew loses it." He gave her a look that was less than pleasant. "Cypher didn't happen by accident, Trinity, and you know it."

"My God, you seriously think I'd ever have let him hurt them if I'd been able to do something to stop it? You think that what he did to them was _my _fault?"

"None of any of this is your fault. Never heard anyone with a brain say different. But Cypher wasn't able to take it anymore, and frankly, sick fuck as he was to do what he did, who the hell can blame him for wanting out of that ship? This bullshit obsession of Morpheus' has quite the casualty rate; lot of people would."

"It's not bullshit. He's here."

"Trin, what he is is _old_. Nobody knows if it's genius or geriatrics."

"I do," she said. "He's the One."

"Direct line to God. Lucky you. But us mere mortals have to rely on facts, so all's I know is, you and Neo refusing to serve anywhere else, all Captain my Captain about it, would be kinda touching if it weren't for the fact people are fucking _dying_."

"Stop changing the subject. I'm not arguing with you about Neo, I don't have to justify myself. This is supposed to be about Link."

"None of this is off the goddamn subject. We're in just _exactly_ the right file. Newsflash: Neo can't stop bullets while he's nailing you in Zion, I hate to be the one to break it down for you, but it's the fucking reality..."

"Okay, you shut your mouth_ right now_..."

Sparks raised his voice, ignored her, "...and the one – the _only_ – thing you and I agree on is that he needs the best goddamn Operator we can get him, so he can keep doing the insane shit he does without some newbie, or straightforward_ retard, _unplugging him because a sentinel's within a mile and they're wetting their Academy-issue pants. Christ, I even thought about putting in for a transfer if nobody else was gonna. For about three seconds, because I know fine well I'd kill you myself the first week, and then Neo really would be fucked - or, you know, not, if we're being literal - plus I'd rather work with squiddies than Morpheus - shit, I'd rather work with _Niobe -_ but still, I was that fucking desperate. So you wanna talk morals with me? How's about you start looking at the fact that your loyalties to Morpheus are grounding Neo. How's about you start thinking about how many more people are coming back under blankets if this goes on. How's about you stop fucking _whining_ because the miracle I just pulled out of my ass for you people isn't the exact fucking color you ordered. In short, how's about you get a fucking grip, Trinity." He threw his hands up in a gesture of frustration. "I thought more of you than this, you know that? You may be a bitch, but you've always been a seriously smart one."

"Sparks..." Her voice trailed away.

"What?"

"It's not that simple."

"Actually Trinity, yes it is. Neo stops people getting killed. He needs an Operator to do that. I got you one. I know you make mules look amenable at the best of times, but please. Just do as you're fucking told for once in your life. Or the next funeral you go to could be Ghost's."

"Tank," she said, and closed her eyes. "Dozer..."

"You think you're the only person who cared about them?" He was, finally, furiously angry. "You think you care more about Link than I do? Jesus, Trinity, you don't even know the guy! You really think I like this? You think this is in some fucked up way for _my_ benefit?"

"Sparks..."

"Yeah yeah, I know. I never give a crap about anyone or anything. Right? I serve on that heap of junk for shits and giggles. Laugh a minute out there, sewers are the place to be, man. Why'd I want any other life?" He stood up. "You know something, Trinity? Fuck off. Just_ fuck off_."

"Wait," she said, and caught his arm.

"So you can tell me how morally offensive it is that I don't like my friends getting killed? Tempting. But no."

"I'm sorry," she said.

He eyed her suspiciously.

"I'm sorry. I am, Sparks. Truly."

"Yeah," he said. "Well." His tone was still cold.

"Link. He's really that good?"

"Ranked top in his year. Faster than anyone but me. Hacks like a fucking dream; he'd give even us a run for our money and trust me, he craps all over Morpheus on that score. And never lost anyone to his own mistake yet. Not one single poddie, not in fourteen years. Bit cautious, but I figure that's no bad thing. You could do with some of that on the Neb."

She was quiet for a moment. "You put a lot of thought into this, didn't you?" she said.

"Me? Nah. Since when do I ever do a thing like that? Look, I'd better go."

"No, wait." She didn't release his arm. "Please. Neo needs to hear this."

"Thanks, but I can do without two lectures in one day."

"Neo won't lecture."

"If you say so."

"He'll listen. And decide. And that'll be that."

"He'll do whatever the fuck you tell him, Trinity."

She smiled suddenly, with genuine amusement. "Is that what you think?"

"It's what everyone thinks."

"And everyone thinks you don't give a crap about anyone or anything. So."

"Don't play chess." He looked at her. "How's about you level with me? Just by way of a novelty?"

She nodded. "Okay. Neo needs to know. The truth, all of it. Then he'll make up his mind. He'll trust me, he'll listen, but he'll still decide for himself. He always does. And nobody on this earth could make him do anything else." She looked away at the door, seemed to be considering her next words. Then she looked back at him, and for the first time he could remember since the day she'd walked into the Academy, her eyes were unguarded. "You really think I'd be this happy with someone weak?"

"I have no clue what makes you tick," Sparks said. "Never have had. You know that."

"Okay. Well, if you don't want Morpheus to know, I can deal with that. I get why."

"Because he thinks there should be a line for the honor. Right?"

She nodded. "But I have to talk to Neo. See if he's okay with it. See if _we_ are."

"Will he be?"

"I don't know," she said. "He knows he needs to get back out there. People will die if he doesn't. But what you told Link... you're forgetting how we got here, Sparks. Being lied to about our own lives. I'm not saying you're in the wrong. I can see your reasons. But you just see the world so very differently to us. Freeborns always do."

"Uh huh." Sparks gently took her hand away from his arm. "I do have to go, Trin. Need to make final checks on the reloads; we're leaving first thing."

* * *

"Hello."

Sparks raised an eyebrow. "The One himself. Should I curtsy?"

"Is this a bad time?"

"Yeah. But come in." Sparks turned, and threw his duffel-bag on the bed. "I can spare you twenty minutes, Superman. More than that, and Niobe'll eviscerate me. You think your girl's a scary bitch, you should meet my Captain. So. What can I do you for?"

"I think you know the answer."

"Link."

Neo nodded.

"This gonna be a lecture?"

"No."

"Just wondered. So what do you want?"

"I don't understand. Why you did it."

Sparks shrugged. "Trin does. And she's First Mate. If that doesn't give her casting vote, someone needs to tell Ghost. Fucker pulls rank on me all the time."

"That's not how we work."

"Well, if I were you, I'd think about starting." Sparks grimaced. "She's many things, I can give you a laundry list, but stupid isn't one of 'em. Never has been, as it goes. I suggest you trust the girl."

"Thanks for the advice."

"You can always tell me to shut it about Trin, you know," Sparks said kindly. "I'm a big boy. I can take it."

"I think I just did."

Sparks blinked. "Ouch. And people say you're stupid."

"Oh, I'm a moron," Neo said. "But that's okay, I have Trinity to think for me. Now can we get back to the point?"

Sparks looked at Neo for a long moment, then grinned. "You're really gonna give her a run for her money, aren't you? About time someone did. Okay. What d'you want to know?"

"Everything."

"In twenty minutes? Don't think so. You're gonna have to be more specific."

"Why you're doing this. Why you do any of it. Why you're on the Fleet at all. Trinity said you weren't from an Operating family."

Sparks was silent for a moment. Then he looked Neo straight in the eyes. "Why should I tell you? That shit's pretty personal."

"Because," Neo said evenly, "you don't add up. What you say, what you do. And I want to know what's going on here."

"You got any other options? For an Operator?"

"One from the Academy. Or a second chair promotion."

Sparks snorted. "No other options."

"They're options," Neo said. "They may be all we're left with. It's really down to you."

"Let me get this straight - Trin's obsessively secretive. You share even less. But I have to tell you my life history?"

Neo shrugged. "You don't have to do anything. It's your choice. But we lost the crew because of misplaced trust, and now you want me to trust you on the guy who keeps us alive. To let you bluepill him into the job. Asking that trust to be blind... no way. I'm sorry."

There was a silence. Then Sparks sighed. "If I talk about this stuff, is it in confidence?"

"Sure."

"Not even Trinity?"

"She won't ask me about you," Neo said. "I wouldn't hold out if she did. But she won't."

Sparks looked at him, digesting what this meant. "No," he said. "No, I suppose not. Okay. When I was a kid, I was friends with a few of the Orphans. You know about them?"

"No parents."

"No. Here, it's little kids freed from the Matrix. Freeing people old enough for the Academy, well, they pay their way. They fight. Used to be that we only freed people between sixteen and twenty-six. The useful age, if you get my drift."

"Cannon fodder."

"Yeah. But about sixty years back, the Fleet made a stand. Told the Council to fuck off. Said it was their asses on the line, and they weren't having any more suicides on their consciences. Was a huge drama at the time. Still is pretty controversial. A lot of people think that freeing minds should be about what'd help Zion, not what's right for coppertops. Even with Hamman on the Council – he was the first Orphan – it kicks off occasionally."

"You're serious?" Neo said, remembering the open, gentle face of that child, bending his spoon.

"Unfortunately. Yeah. Remember, most freeborns don't know any poddies. They've no idea what being trapped in the Matrix does to a redpill. And to be fair it's tough to get het up about individuals when you know billions are stuck in the place. Compassion fatigue, same as bluepills get about famines and floods and what have you. So anyway I was what, thirteen, and my parents told me that I should stay the fuck away from you people. Being as contrary as your girlfriend, I applied for the Academy."

"To spite your parents?"

"Well, that and the fact that those kids were fun. They'd seen so much." Sparks shrugged. "Poddies can be weird bastards, but they're never short on anecdotes. And the ones who get out are guaranteed to be tough as shit. No whiny little assholes. I like that."

"So your parents were pissed."

"That was the really annoying bit. No. Freeborns in the Academy, and it's like a stamp saying your kid's smart. See, all pencil-necks – uh, sorry, yeah, there's quite the variety of insults for you people – get a shot at the Matrix, because the wastage rate's so high in the first year they need to keep throwing a shitload into the mix, see who floats. The ones who make it – really make it, like the Captains or First Mates – they're the shit. They're the best there is. Nobody cares that they're pod-born then. They're fucking celebrities. But most never do make it. They don't live long enough. Operating, well, obviously there's nothing like the same casualty rate, nor the same kudos. But they have to be fucking sharp, 'cause they have to match or excel poddies who can upload straight to the cortex. That's quite some ask. So. Freeborns who graduate the Academy're guaranteed some pretty shit-hot jobs in Zion – there's too many grad Operators, but most freeborns in the Academy don't want on the Fleet, anyway. Easier and safer ways to live. Better paid, too."

Neo was quiet for a moment, digesting this. Then he spoke. "So why didn't you? Get a job in Zion?"

"Because people here piss me off. They don't get it – what it's like out there, what you guys deal with, just for their worthless asses. And freeborns whine all the damn time. The Fleet are different. Tough as shit, loyal as hell. And I keep them alive. It's what I do. I'm fucking good at it. I keep people going when most Operators would be screwed. And from where I'm standing, what you can do isn't so different. So you don't need me to tell you that the more close calls you get 'em out of, the more scared you get that next time, you won't. Gets to the point it's all you think about." Sparks grimaced. "And the better you get, the crazier the crews you're assigned. Which, you know. Doesn't help."

Neo glanced at the clock. "Do you need to leave?" he said. "It's been more than twenty."

"Nah. I lied. Wanted an out."

Neo nodded, seemingly unsurprised.

"Does anything get to you?" Sparks said, curiously. "You're worse than her."

Neo shrugged.

"Talk less, too. Never knew that was even possible."

"I've never been a big talker." Neo was silent for a moment, and then he said, "Trinity tells me you're friends with Link. This isn't only about the Fleet, is it. It can't be."

"No."

"So?"

"We went out for a bit." Sparks said abruptly. "Me and Trin. Years back. You know that, right?"

Neo nodded.

"Okay. Well, I was kind of an asshole when she walked. I liked her a lot. And by the time I'd gotten over her, I think it was too late to be real friends again. She's not big on second chances, Trin. But that doesn't mean I don't care. She and Ghost both mean a hell of a lot to me. You can look after her inside, but you can't hack an exit or time the EMP. She takes too many risks for a mediocre Operator to keep her out of trouble, always did. She's good, don't get me wrong, but she'd have been dead years back without the brothers. Landed on her feet there."

Neo said nothing. His expression was unreadable. Sparks cleared his throat.

"I once lost three in a day. I was second chair; main Operator screwed up. Didn't hack a new exit near enough or fast enough when the hardline was cut. I could've sorted it – knew it was a fuckup while he did it - but second chairs can't contradict first, 'cause arguing wastes more time. So. Agents got them before they made it out. One of them, Linnet, she was a lot like Trinity. Blonde, but same sort of narrow face. Quiet, focused, just seriously fucking good. Survived a lot of really nasty spots, just because she was determined she would. Something about her, you know? But they're only ever as good as their Operator." Sparks closed his eyes. "She got smashed through concrete, head first. Died on impact. Just not something you ever forget."

"Yeah," Neo said, and for a moment he was back in the TV repair shop, as Trinity stared into his eyes, her own filled with grief, absolute fear etched across her face. "I understand."

"God knows how Trin copes. She loved those guys a lot. Switch was the only girl she was ever tight with, as it goes." Sparks rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Back to the point. Apart from the safety angle, she works too hard. Link's a seriously good medic, a decent pilot, and a handy enough mechanic too. You're new, Tank was sick, and you freed half the goddamn Matrix, which must've kept Morpheus busy. She has to have been killing herself."

"She was."

"Uh huh. No offense, but she looks like total shit. She loses any more weight, and you're in real trouble. So. You don't just need an Operator. You need an all-rounder. Same deal on the Logos, small crews need to multi-task. And Link wants to volunteer. Said so himself, before I ever mentioned Dozer. He knows what you can do - Jesus, the whole Fleet does by now. He knows you need someone good, and he and the brothers were tight as shit, too. He knows they'd have followed Morpheus to hell and back, looking for you. Dozer _would've_ said it, if he'd ever imagined a need. Link's a geat guy. He really is. I'd trust him with anything."

"So why?" Neo said. "Why do that to him? If he's your friend?"

"Zee. Said he didn't dare even raise it with her. Knew she'd freak the fuck out." Sparks shrugged. "Look, Link needs the excuse, so he's chosen to buy it. He knows it's dodgy as shit - why would Dozer ask? Makes no sense. Who'd ever think there'd be poddie survivors if two freebies got wiped out? Nobody on the Fleet. But he needs to be able to tell Zee something he can believe in enough that he's not outright lying to her, leastways in his own head. You wanna get hung up on choices, on freedom? You should take a look at some people's marriages. He'd have more freedom in a fucking pod. Whipped is not even close. So I'm happy to be the bad guy. He gets what he wants, Trin gets some sleep, and my friends get to die less. Everyone's a winner. And nobody's asking the two of you to do anything except stay the hell out."

"That is doing something."

"No. It's not. This is my call, and they're my friends. Him, Trin, all the poor poddie bastards who're fucking well gonna _die_ if this shit isn't resolved. It's his call on how the hell he reconciles loving Zee with having any goddamn life of his own. And it's Morpheus' call on who he wants on his ship. You and Trin - you just need to get on with your jobs."

"But he's not having an authentic life."

Sparks shrugged. "Way I see it, this is just another in a long line of adaptive strategies. Zee let him make his own calls, he'd not need them. Then again, he chose to tell her to back off and let him, no excuses, maybe she'd do just that? Who knows." He smiled slightly. "Choices aren't always made in the open. Sometimes, incomplete data's the best you get. You wanna tell me you knew what you were signing up for with that pill?"

"I knew enough."

"Cypher didn't agree."

"Cypher," Neo said steadily, "was a psychopath."

"Well, yeah. Granted. But he was mad as hell over the unequal distribution of data, too. You seem good with it. So really, what's so different? Link knows more than _he_ did. More than _you_ did. You acted by your gut - he's doing likewise. So you gonna tell me it's not enough? Link's gut's somehow inferior issue?"

"I knew, though. I just didn't know how I knew, or what."

"Sure. And so does Link. Only he has a damn good idea on the specifics. More than you ever did."

"Okay." Neo said, seemingly giving up on the debate, and rose. "I think I've heard enough. I'll leave you in peace now."

"What're you going to do?" Sparks said curiously.

"Trust you to do the right thing."

Sparks blinked. "Huh?"

Neo shrugged, a little awkward. "I don't believe you'll let him go, thinking as he does. I think you'll set him straight." He turned as he reached the door, and smiled slightly. "And Sparks? Thanks for your time."

Sparks sat in silence for a long time after the door closed, before slumping his face into his hands and groaning.


	18. Living In The Now

"I can't do this," he says softly.

"You can. You can do whatever you put your mind to."

"Not without you, I can't."

"And I'm not going anywhere."

"You could have been _killed__._"

"I've been doing this years, Neo." She touches his hand. "I'm still here._"_

He's heard that, or a version of it, from so many on the Fleet by now. Some lie under memorial slabs, back in Zion. They're always fine... until the day they aren't. And he can't - even he can't - guarantee her immune.

He exhales, frustrated. "I'm sorry," he says.

He doesn't know quite what he's apologizing for; leaving her to fend for herself while he completed the target's escape, as she told him to, or his weakness now, remembering it. Neither feels good. Not much about Trinity in danger ever does. And she's in danger so often. The truth is, he doesn't give a fuck about the targets, not when she's involved. But he has to save the weakest first. And Trinity's not weak. She's anything but. Often, he has to save her last.

In the early days she was so exhausted. She worked so painfully hard. Now he's more capable, and Link everything Sparks promised, she gets much more sleep. She looks much better. But she's in the Matrix five times as often, too. The irony is biting - her health protected, her life risked. Sometimes, he'd give much to go back in time.

"You got us out," she says, trying to pull him back to her, away from the memory. "You did it, Neo. We're fine."

She felt fear at the time, he knows, but he also knows that she let it go as soon as she was safe. She never dwells, always moves onwards. He marvels at her ability to do that. He certainly doesn't share it.

"We're all fine," she says again, searching his eyes with her own. He looks away.

"Only just."

"You did everything exactly the way you're supposed to. What, you were gonna leave her to them?"

"No. But..."

"There _is_ no but. It's the job."

"I know that. I know you're good, Trinity. I just..." he looks away again, down at his feet. Avoids her eyes. She sighs.

"You've only been here a few months. People forget that, but you have. It takes time to adjust to it. To how we live."

"_Living in the now_." His voice somehow adds in the quotation marks, and there's a note of frustration, too.

"And in the now," she says steadily, "I'm here, with you. _Thanks _to you. It's enough."

She may be right, but she's also wrong. It isn't enough. _Now_ could never be enough. He wants more than that with her, for her - and he hates that he can't offer it. The One he may be, but the thing he most wants, he can't begin to guarantee. He looks at her then, eyes haunted, and she gives up on words and just pulls him into her arms.

He tries to focus on the purely physical, on the familiar pressure of her body against his, the rhythmic sound of her breathing, the scent of her skin, her hair, the tension of her arms against his shoulders as she holds him close. He sighs miserably into her neck, and feels her squirm a little in response. That tiny gesture slowly starts to unravel the knot in his guts, just because it's so characteristic. She's impossibly ticklish under her ears, reacts to the slightest breath, and he knows it. He knows exactly how she responds to his touch. It never fails to warm him, that she allows him, uniquely, this knowledge. He alone knows how she moves, sounds, looks, with each movement of his breath or hands or tongue against every single inch of her skin. He knows the noises she makes when she stirs in her sleep, when she kisses him, when an orgasm tears through her body. Only he knows the sounds then; the wide-eyed calling of his name, as she falls, in his arms. She is his, and he still can't believe his own luck. Despite it all, despite the hardships of this life, he still knows himself to be lucky.

He breathes into her hair, listens to her inhale, exhale; reminds himself that she is here, in his arms, warm and loving and very, very much alive. He pulls her closer, tightens his hold. "Trinity..."

Her name has become a mantra. Sometimes he'll find it echoing in his mind when anxious, angry, bored, sleepless. How would she react, his calm, practical Trinity, to knowing her name has become his talisman?

"Hmm?"

He smiles at the sound, at the inquiring hum in her throat. She pulls back slightly, raises an eyebrow. She's pleased that he's suddenly relaxed, that the anxiety has passed so swiftly. But she's curious now. "What?" she says. "What is it?"

"Your name," he says simply. "I just like to say it. I like the way it sounds."

Her mouth quirks into a smile; his favorite smile, the one she gives when he's made her feel especially loved. They kiss.

It's come to epitomize reality to him, kissing her, so it's particularly welcome after several hours inside the brittle, programmed harshness of the Matrix. She tastes, as she always does, of freedom. Of endless nights and lazy mornings in Zion, of making love, and sleep without fear, and meandering caresses in a dreamy limbo between sleep and wakefulness. Hours when he can explore her body at leisure, talk with her of things unrelated to work, love her without interruption; without anything else having any claim at all. She always means joy to him, wherever she is, wherever they are. Tonight is no exception.

She moves closer, so close his breath hitches; her hips press into his own, her breasts move against his chest as she wraps her arms around his neck. The kissing deepens and then intensifies as the distance between them is eliminated. They're flush against one another, not a milimeter of separation, but they're still not close enough. Not anything like close enough. And she's utterly aware of the effect she's having on him. At this point, it's impossible to miss.

"Bed," she breathes into his mouth, the sheer longing in her voice sending shivers up his spine.

"We've time?"

"They're treating her, the others still need them too, they won't look for us... as long as we're quick... and there're no alarms..."

"If," he says, punctuating his words with kisses along her throat, her jaw, her shoulders, his hands slipping under her sweater and caressing a path up her spine, "a sentinel fucks this up_.._. I will _end _it. _Personally_."

He is rewarded by her laughter, silenced by his mouth reclaiming hers.

...

Afterwards, he stays for a moment, looking down at her as she takes his face in her hands and gazes back. They kiss then, deeply, tenderly, and it's a moment of absolute joy. And minutes later, as they sit side by side, buckling their boots, he turns his head and breathes into her temple, _you're so perfect, you've always been so perfect, I'll never get used to you_, and she smiles. And knows that for all the costs, and the risks, and the losses and the suffering, she'd not change a damn thing about any detail of her life; not since the day she was born. Because who's to say it wouldn't alter something in what she has with him, too? She may not be perfect, but this is. This truly is. And she'd not jeopardize it for anything the world could ever offer.

* * *

That tiny detail - her hair suddenly fluttering loose, as soon as the bullet hits - terrifies him. The RSI responding to mental vulnerability in some unique, characteristic way. The mind letting go, when the mind is all they have. He's seen it too many times by now. Sometimes, he's called into the Matrix by another ship, because someone's in such danger only he can help. Sometimes, he gets there too late. And when an RSI starts to falter, he knows death is close behind. That he has bare minutes to get them to an exit before he's carrying a corpse.

He knows he's being foolish. He knows it's just a dream. But he's compelled to get up and search for her, anyway.

He finds her exactly where she's meant to be, in the Core, watching the Matrix feed. She doesn't take her eyes from the screen, but smiles and holds a hand out towards him. He reaches over, and takes it.

The target is preparing for bed. It's 3 am. Insomniac. Of course. He watches Trinity as she watches the target, her brow furrowed in concentration, her eyes never leaving the screens.

Her hair is falling into her eyes.

It's growing out. Pretty soon, it'll be an exact match to the dream, just as her RSI outfit became one, a couple of weeks back. He'd found himself staring at her in the Construct as they loaded up, horrified, his nightmares abruptly a waking reality. She'd looked at him then, alert as ever to the sudden shift in his mood. _"Neo?" _Her voice gentle, concerned. And he winces now, recalling the flicker of shocked hurt as he brushed her aside: _"It's not important." _Distant. Cold, even. She was absolutely still for a moment, then quietly went back to checking her guns.

She hadn't let it affect how she was with him. He could have predicted that, the acceptance that he had the right to keep his own counsel. She's not insecure or neurotic. Her quiet dignity, her sanity, has been his anchor from the very beginning. But he'd never kept anything from her before, not in the face of a direct query, and it created a slight fissure between them that's neither grown, nor healed. Just remained, a near-invisible flaw in something that had always been flawless. Remembering it, an icy trickle starts down his spine, then pools dully in his gut.

"He's doing well," she says absently, her chin propped on the hand he doesn't hold. "All on schedule."

"Good."

She knows him. So she takes her eyes from the screens at once. "Why're you awake, Neo? You've only had an hour."

"Dream."

"Another?" There is a silence, one he can't think how to fill, before she says, her tone carefully neutral, "Are you hungry?"

"Not really. But I can take over if you are."

"Well, how about I eat, and you keep me company? No point watching a sleeping target." She smiles into his eyes. "Not that it ever stopped me with you."

He knows what she's doing. She never downplays what he is to her; what he's always been. She openly acknowledges that it began, for her, before he even knew she existed. Back when he was mere aimless, shiftless, awkward Thomas Anderson; when he should have been no different from so many other potentials, none of whom attracted a flicker of interest from her. The love was always for him, not the role. It's always been his greatest source of strength. Now, it's a measure of all he stands to lose.

"Your hair," he says abruptly. She tucks strands behind her ears, suddenly self-conscious.

"My hair?"

"It's getting long."

"Yeah, I guess it is." She's a little embarrassed. He knows she's taken more interest in her appearance since he arrived, because people have told him so - even teased him about it, when she's safely out of earshot. He knows it isn't done to please him, nor because she's vain. It's because she's got a life outside the war for the first time in years. She's building a civilian life with him now, when they're back in Zion. She's begun to trust in happiness.

She breaks the silence by changing the subject, back to the target. "When d'you think we can approach?" His instinct for that is unerring - he's yet to have anyone choose a blue pill once he's determined their readiness. They've given up conventional methods of assessment, and just trust him on it.

"Soon," he says distractedly. The chill is once again settling in his gut, as he realizes her hair is a decision, not an oversight. He'd not want her to canvass his views on how she should look. That's not how they are, nor how he'd want them to be. But her hair is getting much, much longer now. Soon, he will dream the correct length.


	19. Irony

Irony is, it was me that identified her.

Morpheus didn't want to know. None of the guys did. Official reason was she'd been passed on by another ship, a year previous, but it was an excuse. Kid was stuck in a pod, malnourished, riddled with plugs, blind, atrophied and oblivious, but they none of them could get past the digital Upper East Side. All her privileges were just a stack of code - they weren't goddamn _real_ - but she got judged on them, anyway. So much for _free your mind_, hey, Morpheus.

I thought she was fucking awesome. Mind like a steel trap, spine to match. I decided I really, _r__eally _liked this kid when they sent her to some fancy therapist. _Why_ did she never wear the cute clothes? _Why _drop ballet for karate? _Why_ no parties? _Why_ her computer? _Why_ such a loner? _Why, why, why_... is it _drugs_, Amy? She said four words the whole session – _Hello, yes, no, _and_ okay_ - then went away and did some research. A hell of a_ lot _of research. Next visit, she tore the guy apart. Methodology, stats analysis, lives of the theorists, intellectual bases of the theories... you name it, kid had it covered. I guess a professor might have had her ass, but not this guy. He couldn't take it at all. Ended up yelling that she was_ rebellious_ and _resistant_. Said it like that was a _bad _thing. Playing back his dictafone records, I was laughing so hard I was just about crying, and Morpheus wasn't far behind. Okay, he said. You win. Let's see what she's got. So he pulled up a trace on her latest activity – and couldn't fucking believe what he saw.

_Niobe... look. Just look at this. My Christ, it's not possible. How the hell...?_

She'd cracked the goddamn IRS, seconds before. Just a kid, still plugged in, no formal training, and she'd done that. _Unbelievable._ And you know what she'd been digging for?

_Find Field: Matrix. _

No way she could play that off as general interest: they got to her before we did, kid was dead.

Morpheus just went into overdrive, getting her the hell out. Found Python, three sentence explanation, got clearance. Jacked in inside five minutes, located her in fifteen, at the field sewers for pick-up within forty-five. There was a lot of guilt in the way they all put their asses into gear; they knew they should've been onto her weeks before. She was just a kid, and she'd done her part and then some. If she got killed, it was on them. Morpheus wouldn't admit to it now, thundering on about Fate and Destiny and Providence like he does, but truth is, we only just got her out in time. No way he's admitted it to a soul, but first time he laid eyes on her file, he swore up and down she was a bluepill. _Trinity_. A bluepill. It'd make a cat laugh.

He figured the scale of his mistake the second he laid eyes on her. We all did. She was extraordinary. Back straight, jaw up, eyes clear - just commanding respect, kid or no. Python sat there waiting for her, deadlock at the door. Said she wouldn't talk to anyone but Morpheus, she'd been looking for Morpheus, trusted Morpheus; anyone else could go to hell. Nothing we said made a damn bit of difference. None of the guys knew what the shit to do, in the end I just lost patience, said to do as the girl asked, haul his ass out of the Ops suite before we lost the need for one. But when she saw him, this wave of relief washed over her, and suddenly she looked what she was. Shit scared, confused, vulnerable, just fifteen years old. And very, very alone.

_Morpheus. Oh God, I've been looking for you._

_No, Trinity. You haven't. You've been looking for an answer. Do you know the question?_

Eyes focused on his, like he had the answer to every question she'd ever asked. Like I say, she was a smart kid.

_What is the Matrix?_

She _grabbed _that red pill. Was told to wait, think carefully, be sure, the usual spiel. She just said she was sick of thinking, thinking'd never got her anywhere, she was _done _with thinking.

Guess some habits are harder to break than others, hey Trinity.

Once she was aboard, things went to shit. She didn't react the way you want. Tears are good. Anger's good. Clingy's annoying as hell, but good. She just turned inwards, which is not. At all. Didn't talk, didn't react, didn't even seem to be there. Total inwards retreat. Worst possible response – people who give up on feeling often give up on breathing, soon after. Morpheus asked how she was doing, so I said I figured we could lose her, and he just pushed his food away, got up and left. I followed; found him leaning over her in the med bay, talking softly, gentle as you like. She looked at him, tried to focus, eyes hazy and red-rimmed.

_Am I dead, Morpheus? _

Bit his lip. Then put his palm on her forehead, smiled down at her.

_No, Trinity. You're saved. You're safe. I won't leave you again. Now try to rest._

_A_fter that, he spent every spare second with her. Took her into the Construct to explain, sat with her when she sobbed after, made sure she ate, slept, was warm enough, wasn't lonely, then when we got back to Zion insisted we take her to the Academy ourselves to settle her in, screw the Council report, he'd do that after he saw her right. The other guys on the ship were freaked – seriously pretty kid, only just turned fifteen, worshiped him – but it never bothered me, not back then. What they have was never that. He saw her as some sort of cross between a kid sister and a daughter – and that she was special, too. And he was right to, I'll give him that. Whatever you can say – and fuck knows, I do – he has a nose for talent. He'll take someone everyone else overlooked – Diver, Echi, Switch, Mouse – and they'll start to perform at a level nobody imagined possible. Maybe it's because he runs the Neb like a cult – more guru than Captain - they have faith in him, and he returns the favor. Till death do them part. Which it does. Every goddamn time. He always gets them killed in the end, even Trinity's luck can't hold forever. But they do do incredible work first. Only reason he's still got a command; why the Council block all Jason's best efforts. They free more people and do more espionage than anyone else; Academy grads all want on because of it. Specially now, of course. Now, they have another reason for worship.

It makes Jason apoplectic. There's Morpheus, refusing to obey orders, refusing to accept the judgement of his superiors, refusing to defer to rank... while goddamn _Neo _walks one step behind him, deferential as you like. Makes me look at Sparks and wonder where in hell I go wrong. I'd never want that from Ghost – he's a junior partner, not a minion – but he'd not give blind trust like that anyway, even if asked. But then, no way Trinity would anyone else, either. Doesn't even to Neo. He never tells her what to do.

She's desperate about that boy. Gotta admit, I was kind of cynical when I heard. I mean, we all knew what he could do, right from the get-go. Crazy gifted - he can _fly, _for Chrissakes. Trinity's been single since graduation, nose aloft, get-your-hands-off aloof, suddenly she hooks up with a freed before he even hits Zion. Fresh out the pod, first real woman he's ever laid eyes on, bam, committed relationship. Before he knows what the fuck just hit him. Fair few commented on the fact that she and Morpheus would've blocked anything similar from anyone else on their crew. They'd have called it unethical. Hell, most of us would. Problem is, he'd be dead without her making that move, which does tend to cut argument off at the legs. Not a lot you can say about how she should've waited, not when she was coming on to a goddamned_ corpse _at the time.

I figured he was the first guy to ever match up to her professional standards – then I heard she thought he was the One Himself, which, let's face it, takes _sleeping up_ to whole new heights. Discovered my mistake that first Fleet meeting, when Neo was under discussion and wasn't even there. She just tore Jason the shit apart, humiliated him before every junior officer in the city, didn't give a damn about anything except having Neo's back. And suddenly that fifteen year old girl was with us. Still in there, after all. Ferocious, maverick, clever, and tough as all hell aflame. Fought her corner like it was her life on the line - Neo being her corner. Single most ambitious kid I ever met, never put a foot wrong in a decade, just shrugging a huge future aside like it was nothing. I knew from Jason she was in line for the next command to came up – she'd served her time, excellent First Mate, wasn't to blame for her Captain, in fact Jason reckoned she probably kept him in line – but after that meeting - zip. Gone. No chance. And yet she doesn't give a damn.

I couldn't believe my eyes that first leave. None of us could. With him every second, protective as hell, guarding the guy, acting the gatekeeper, icy snarls for anyone who looked at him sideways, while she looked at him herself like he was the only real thing she'd ever laid eyes on. Like he was the reason for everything. A _guy_, of all things.

He just looked lost, scared – rabbit in headlights - none of us could believe him capable of the stuff he'd done, let alone the stuff the Council were getting him to do in the Construct. He was doing more by the day, jacked in. But out, he was just quiet and bewildered and kind of... dazed. Watched her every second, grateful as a puppy. Practically wagged his tail and sat up and begged. So fucking innocent it made me want to kick him – neediness always drives me fucking insane. So pathetically dependant, I wasn't even sure he loved her back. Can't tell where love begins and clingy ends? Can't tell if it's love at all. Not in my books. And more I saw of him, less I understood. Impregnable, snooty Trinity, suddenly openly crazy about some manchild. Wasn't ambition, not with the side order of career suicide, so what in hell did she see in him, worth that?

People were laying bets. Thinking was, a guy that naive would be a real little fucker, just as soon as the local girls figured out what he could do, started kissing his ass. That he'd not have the maturity to keep grounded in the face of that, that he'd lose all sense of perspective, turn into an egomaniac little dickwad. Some of the stuff getting said wasn't pleasant – too many guys hadn't got where they wanted with Trinity, and weren't exactly losing their shit at the thought of her getting some major blowback. Couldn't work out if they wanted him to fuck around on her, or just dump her for a girl ten years younger. Both options had their adherents. Only agreement was that he was gonna change utterly, and fast.

And he _was _totally different, next time we saw him. Four crews went in for a meeting; the Neb was one. He walked a step behind Morpheus, matched with Trinity; never spoke, just like every other crewman - but he _owned_ that room. The way he stood, the look on his face, just the authority of the guy. Was like the invasion of the fucking body snatchers, to anyone who'd seen him in Zion. And then at one point he just walked. Not a word to Morpheus. No authority to leave four senior officers at all. Exchanged a look with Trinity; murmured words nobody else caught; stalked off. Morpheus saw our faces and smiled. To himself. Didn't react in any other way. But we knew what he was thinking.

_This is my crew. Your rules don't apply. We have our own._

The Caduceus had some newbie guarding the Hardline, Vie, and she rushed in, breathless: "_Exits_."

"What?"

"_Agents_. Neo's fighting. Said to go – _now_."

We met him coming up the stairs on our way down. We were running. He wasn't - he looked goddamned _bored_.

"Done?" Trinity said, slowing right up. He nodded, didn't seem at all perturbed. Nor, even more freakily, did she.

That was it. End of story.

Aren't really words to describe how that felt. Nobody even tried.

We all got out. Sparks was gibbering, telling us about it, holy _shit,_ you shoulda seen Neo in action, my _Christ_, it's not _right_, how's that frigging vanilla little geek _do_ that? _How_?

Which was - as it's always been - the million dollar question.

* * *

He was a veteran inside two months. Just had that look, tough, reserved, like he'd seen it all, done it all, nothing could shock him anymore. The one that takes the rest of us a good couple of years. Still quiet, but now it's a controlled energy, watchful, calm, just like hers. And she'd backed off completely. Still crazy for him, but her old self - detached, cool, observant. And he's not dependant and needy now. This time, when he looked at her, I bought it. He doesn't cling. He can handle himself just fine. And still loves her to goddamn distraction. Puppydog's gone, but the gazing hasn't. He looks at her like she does him - like they've found the answer to everything they ever wanted in life, right there in one another; can't ever ask for more. Like there_ is_ no more. Kind of makes me feel a twinge, if I'm honest. Jason and me is different. More grown up, maybe. Maybe what they have is something you can't have twice. First great passion, or whatever. I don't even know.

They're less and less able to keep their hands off as time goes on. It's become a Fleet joke. Ballard says she has the look of a girl who's being royally fucked on a seriously regular basis, and though Kali and I tore him the shit apart for it, we quietly admitted it to each other later: he's bang on right, she does. Just has that satisfied glow. But it's more than that. I see them sometimes, just talking, total concentration, intent on what the other has to say, nobody else matters a damn. She'd never listen like that if she didn't rate his brains, however mindblowing the sex. Only other people she ever pays that kind of mind to are Morpheus and Ghost, and you could not ever call either of those guys stupid. And she always looks to see his reactions, inside and out of the Matrix; swift shared glance, brief silent conversation, then she'll voice an opinion. People think she talks for him, across him, but that's bull. She doesn't so much as piss without checking in to see if they share a view on how, and he mirrors that. Complete double act. Couldn't begin to guess which one of them holds more cards.

To be fair to the girl, all those years of resenting her over Ghost were misplaced too. She can't have the first idea. She'd chop her own arm off before doing that to Neo, so if she so much as suspected, she'd put distance so fast her heels'd be smoking. Neo, though, does know. Sparks said as much months back, when I still thought the guy was dense; I just said to get the hell out; he'd never let the girl drape herself over Ghost like she does if he had the first fucking clue. Sparks shrugged, said Trinity didn't know, never had, but he reckoned Neo thought himself lucky, felt for Ghost. That Neo was hard to read, sure, but read other people just fine, and when it came to Trinity, missed nothing. _Nothing. _Then one day the Neb was headed out before us, she hugged Ghost goodbye, same as always... and I saw Neo's face. Sparks had it in one. Was cool with it – but knew. He trusts Trinity, likes Ghost, encourages the friendship, because it matters to her, and that's all that matters to him. Guy's a saint. Seriously, seriously nice guy. And that figures, because Morpheus wouldn't trust anyone less with his girl, messiah or no. He'd kick his ass if he so much as looked at her sideways. Certainly wouldn't have them kit out a double fucking cabin in the refit – my Christ, the drama that one caused with Jason, I can't even tell you.

Poor Jason. He was bound and determined that Neo was gonna be assigned the hell away from the Neb. Had the Osiris in mind, and to be fair, that was a damn good call. Thadeus is one of the best. Smart, savvy, skilled, knows when to turn a blind eye and when to come down tough, never takes risks without reason, but enough balls to take 'em without flinching when it counts. Never lost a crewman for nothing in his career – whereas Morpheus told a stack of guys they could do as Neo can, was wrong every damn time, and poor bastards only found their error when demonstrated at the fists of some Agent. Absolutely goddamn pointless, like most of the deaths on his ship. Not making excuses for Cypher, Jesus, but working with Morpheus, way he was after seeing the Oracle? Be enough to drive anyone to extremes. Jason had a seriously good point, arguing Neo was a wasted asset in those hands; that Morpheus could get him killed. I'd asked how – where the risk was, given what Neo could do – and after specifying just how classified the info was, he said,_ explosives_. The one thing Neo isn't proof against. And Morpheus wouldn't be careful, not when he's a religious fanatic, not when he believes Neo's the One. We need Neo alive, well and fighting. Morpheus can't be trusted to ensure that. Thadeus can.

Apparently the Council got Neo in alone, no Trinity, no Morpheus. And he sat there. Said nothing. Didn't even seem to be listening. They all argued it out – main area for argument was, Trinity'd bought him back from the dead, might be needed to do that again, how could they convince her to jump ship too? Jason was adamant that that was impossible, that their relationship was too public now to be permitted on a ship, that anyway she kept Morpheus on more of a leash than anyone else and needed to stay put, just to move Neo, not her. And when deadlock was reached on that one, Councilor West asked Neo for input on the issue – his being moved elsewhere had already been agreed. He just said, _I'm a civilian, right?_ And people fell silent. _Yes,_ Dillard agreed. _So I don't have to enlist?_ _No, it's voluntary, but Neo, surely you understand... your contribution to the war..._ and he just said, cool as you like, _Yeah, I want to enlist, but __I serve under Morpheus, alongside Trinity. Those are my terms. And I won't lie about being with Trinity. I escaped to have a real life. I have one. I won't pretend differently._

Jason was apoplectic, ranted for fucking hours after._ Just sat there, arrogant little piss-ant, making conditions. Fleet Command, the Council, told us what he would and would not do. Jesus, this is the goddamned army! Who the hell does he think he is?_

I didn't point it out, but they could've counted themselves lucky he asked for so little. Trinity and Morpheus, that was all. We need Neo, and he doesn't need anything. He has Trinity, and they've a home, her pay, and freedom. Doesn't give a damn what anyone thinks, doesn't give a damn about status. Everything he gives a shit about, he already has. What're we gonna do, shove him out the gates? He's doing us the favor. He could've asked for Jason's job, and they'd have had to give it serious fucking consideration. And all he asked for was the people he cares for. No more, no less.

The One is horseshit. Fairytale dreamed up by people who need answers, need something to hope for, fight for, believe in. It's crud, as much as the Matrix itself, and Morpheus is wasting his life. But fact is, Neo has something. That's undeniable. It's not just what he can do, either. There's something about the guy, about his personality, about his... I don't even know. But he can take the most amount of ass-kissing and just stay unaffected. And he's always so courteous, genuinely humble, but he takes no crap, either. Nobody gives him shit now. One hell of a lot of women - younger and far better looking than Trinity - come on to him, and none ever tries it twice. He handles it so's they don't. His loyalty is that absolute. There's just a goodness to him. And a strength. There's _something_. Trinity sees it, just as Morpheus saw something in her, and she's right to. Whatever the future, there's just something about him that I've never seen in anyone else. Something convincing.

I'd never say as much to Jason, but I believe in Neo. Whether I want to or not. I just do. I can't help it. I don't believe in "the One". But I do believe in him.


	20. Aftermath

_Author's Note: this final chapter is set after the end of The Matrix Revolutions. It is not the most cheerful thing you are ever likely to read; it complies with movie canon.  
_

* * *

Inside the Dock, he saw a crowd surrounding something. He had never seen a group of people so still. They looked like statues, like pillars of salt, like the Temple stalactites. They looked under some dark spell, frozen by some malevolent witch. It made his skin crawl.

Walking over to them, he shuddered, wondering what new horror had been uncovered now – a child's body, a pregnant woman's?

"Second Officer Ghost of the Logos," he called out as he drew near. "What's happening here?"

An infantryman he'd never seen before turned, saluted hastily at the sight of Ghost's uniform. "Sir, none of us are members of the Fleet. Could you... could you confidently identify the One, Sir?"

Another man hissed something, something indistinct, but it plainly disturbed the group; suddenly freed from their spell, they all swung round to stare. The horror in their faces galvanized Ghost. "Let me see..." he began to push his way through.

"Sir, I don't..." Someone caught his arm, tried to draw him back. "_Sir._ Wasn't the One's... wasn't she your sister?"

_Wasn't._

Now and then down the years, he'd hear that she had almost died on some insane mission or other, that she'd escaped whatever death trap Morpheus had laid this time, always through her patented mixture of skill, guts, cussedness and sheer blind luck. She'd seemed somehow untouchable, beyond the reach of the stalking horse the rest of the Fleet so feared. Neo's arrival had reinforced that, been the best guarantee of her safety possible; for months Ghost had been able to breathe freely, to sleep unhaunted by dreams of her death. She'd _almost_ died so often, but never had. Her skill, her luck, her indomitability of spirit had always saved her. But not now. Not this time. That _almost_ was now a _wasn't she your sister_? And he wondered how he had ever hoped it could end differently.

* * *

"Please, Trinity._ Please."_

"I have to."

"But this isn't survivable. What he's doing – Trinity, he isn't coming back."

"I know. We both do."

"Trinity, he loves you, he _worships _you, he won't want you to go, he can't..."

"We belong together, Ghost. We always have. No matter where it takes us." She says it as simply as if it's a law of nature; a force that keeps the earth turning, the tides flowing, the stars apart. A truth of impenetrable density.

"But you'll die," he says, and the words catch his following breath in a gasp of pain. "Trinity..."

"We all die," she says, and her mouth twists, distorts. He can see her fear. "Nobody gets out of life alive."

"Please, Trinity... _please_. I love you. You know I love you."

She takes his hands in her own, and says, infinitely gentle, "Then don't ask me to live without him. I can't. I don't know how."

_After six months. Yet you expect me to live without you, after fifteen years. _But he knows he can't voice that. His only choice now is to let her go with his love wrapped round her heart, or to make this harder for her; further weight this monstrous burden. And that is no choice at all.

He hugs her. "The bravest of the brave," he says, inhaling the scent of her hair, so newly washed in Zion. "You always were. I've always been so proud, Trinity."

"You," she mutters into his sweater, her arms so tightly round his shoulders it is painful, "are biased."

"No. I'm not. Trinity- look after each other."

"We always do," she says, and chokes back a sob. "God, I can't start this shit. I might not be able to stop." She releases him, lifts her bag, turns to the door. "I have to go. I love you. Don't forget."

She blows a kiss from her fingertips, before disappearing from sight.

It's the most uncharacteristic thing he's ever known her do. It feels like a tiny glimpse of the woman only Neo knows. And he is grateful, even at such a moment, for that.

* * *

So much blood. Dried, caked, encrusted; her clothes rigid with it. Ghost hears his own breathing gasping in, out, in, out, as he climbs up onto the barge, shoves aside the hands that seek to restrain him, focuses only on the still frame that once held everything he most loved.

_Trinity._

And that amount of blood meant death was anything but swift.

_Trinity._

"Sir..."

Ghost turns, and looks at the sea of faces.

"Sir... is it... are they..." the man swallows. "Sir... none of us know what she looked like. And his face... it's hard to recognize him, too."

It takes a few moments to recover his voice; formulate words from sounds. "It's Trinity. Yes." He looks now at the body beside her, though he already knows who he will find. "And that's... it's Neo. The One."

_His eyes. Oh God, his eyes. What in hell did they do to him? Did she live to see that?_

There's a small box in Neo's clasped hands. A square thing, made of metal. Machine made. Ghost takes it, gently, carefully.

Inside the box lies a disk.

He can't think about that now. He just wants them to have some privacy, time alone together before burial. Neo would hate strangers paying homage, taking him away from Trinity even in death, and nobody else will be determined enough to stop it, or even understand why it should be stopped. Nobody else will do this for them.

"Take them to their room," he says. "301. Level 303. Please. Before this gets out. Before the crowds."

"Not the morgue?" The man is diffident. "Won't that level be...a little warm?"

"No. The morgue is full. They liked to be alone together." He swallows. "It's the only home they ever had. They should be there until..." He blinks back tears, not caring who sees them, unable to say it, "... and we can put ice in or something. And... she asked me once. To see that she was buried, not cremated. Neo would hate to be apart from her, he always did. If that was what she wanted, he'd want the same. I know everyone else is being burned, but..."

He will never know who this man is, he will never be able to remember the face, but his kindness will never leave him, either.

"Sir, after what your sister and the One did, they'll have whatever in hell we can give them. Anything. You just say the word; we'll do it. I swear to you. You have a key? For their room?"

"Yes."

"Okay. You go and wait. We'll bring them down to you, arrange the practical side. It'll be done right, Sir. I promise you that."

* * *

"She died first," she said. "He was with her. She died unafraid."

Ghost closed his eyes.

"She was happy," she said softly. "She was, you know."

"Was she in much pain?"

"She should have been. But she was too far gone to realize it."

"She went into shock." He breathed out through his nose.

The Oracle nodded. "Best analgesic there is."

He raised his head, looked at her. There were tears in his eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm just sorry it's the best I can do for you." She sighed. "They were such good people. Both of them. Not fair, is it?"

"His eyes..."

"His eyes weren't what killed him."

"No. But what did? Nobody can tell. They tried..."

"He let Smith take him over. Copy himself. The action destroyed them both. Then they were able to use Neo to reload the Matrix. It was crashing before that, everyone was going to die."

"I don't understand."

"No. But do you need to? We just need to be grateful. All of us."

"I can't," Ghost clenched his hands, released them. "I know I should be, but I can't. I can't even forgive him. He took her with him."

"I doubt she asked his permission."

"He could have asked her not to go..."

"He wouldn't have made it without her. Then she'd have died anyway, in Zion, with everyone else. Without him. Would that have been better?"

Ghost was silent for a moment. Then he made a small, defeated gesture. "You're going to tell me it was her path, aren't you."

"_Their _path. Yes. He knew he would die. He could only win by letting Smith win. By letting Smith kill him."

"He _let _someone kill him? In the Matrix?" Ghost thought a moment, then looked up. "But–"

"It was a relief. No doubt about it. He negotiated a truce, then did what he had to to meet his side of the bargain. Death, as it happened. But he wouldn't have died unless it was necessary for Zion. He'd have lived if he could. It wasn't a suicide, Ghost."

Tears began to spill down Ghost's cheeks. "I wouldn't blame him," he said. "God, I'd understand."

"I know." She took a long drag on her cigarette. "But she deserved better than that from him. And she deserves better than that from you. You owe it to her, you know."

"What?"

"To do your part in making this peace last." She flicked her ash, looked at him. "Creating it was their path," she said. "Maintaining it – now that, kiddo, is ours."


End file.
